The story of a gray life and the ravings of a strong and sentimental woman
It may be obscure, it may be cruel, the heaviness of life, the ruthlessness of fate, the indifference of reality
It may not move you, or it may not satisfy you, but isn't life such that it doesn't allow anyone to act arbitrarily?
We are all blackbirds, hovering over the black island, looking for our kind.
But in the dark night, we can't see each other clearly
They could only collide with each other feebly, leaving bruises all over their bodies.
I thought it was all the world's fault
Actually
It's my own loneliness and kindness, dreams and persistence
make us hurt each other
This is not the first post, it has been posted elsewhere.