It turns out that it's just memories, contentment, and gratitude, it's that simple.
The insignificant joke of God consumes our lives and burns up our emotions, but we are finally relieved.
If flowers bloom all year round.
Opened, thanked, there is no eternity, no accumulation.
Having loved and suffered, there is no need to persist so persistently.
Maybe the strong colors won't eventually accumulate into a thick and desperate black.
It's just that flowers bloom all year round.
Conception: