Looking at the dead leaves scattered on the ground outside the window, the sadness gathered all over the place is like the memory that is deeply rooted in the bone marrow. Although it will not disappear instantly, it will slowly disappear with the dissipation of time until it is gone.
The dust of the past is like a passing cloud. Maybe, for you, those past are just a speck of dust in the vast sea of clouds. They are so small that they cannot arouse any emotion in you. You just watch this extremely boring farce with an expressionless face.
When you turn around resolutely at a crowded street and choose to forget without hesitation, what can I...
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