In fact, not many people are willing to play such a boring game with me anymore. They leave after a certain time.
I don't know why, or I don't want to know why,
No matter if you leave, you won't have any nostalgia after leaving. As time goes by, the temporary reluctance will disappear intermittently.
Is it deliberate? Doesn't matter?
Unknowable, still unknowable,
I really miss those days when I was young and innocent, with no worries or worries at all. The only so-called sorrow I had was just the thought of "telling sorrow for the sake of writing new words", and the thought of killing the cat out of pure curiosity ```````` These fragmented but damned things are unforgettable, but cannot be touched or touched, like the moon in the water, or the shadow in the mirror - illusory tightness, ethereal tightness, and also very unbearable tightness ````````
That's all, that's all, I can't go back after all...