We are all tired of being ordinary.
The self that is inconspicuous, without brilliance, unknown, forgotten in the corner.
The fairy tales of walking around the palace and dancing with princes in gorgeous glass slippers have long since disappeared among the noisy and dirty people, leaving only an empty outline.
When the prosperity dissipates, gray mist begins to appear in the sky. Who polluted the blue into gloom?
Who are we like, and whose footsteps are we following?
We forget, how do we learn to pick it up?
We are willful, how have we ever known how to cherish it?
After that after that.
The one who accompanies me on the pirate ship cancels her you;
You who dominate the basketball court but never forget to look for her in the audience;
The immature you with dimples in your smile;
The back of her gradually moving away blurs your...
There is only one sentence left, which we have never touched
——I love you.