I! Is it the cups on the coffee table or the grass roots buried deep in the mud?
Future! Is it the unattainable glory or the extravagant stability?
In the confusion... I felt like a plastic bag in the garbage, being tossed around by the strong and weak wind.
As a result, they just become tattered, or hang on withered branches and be torn apart, or roll in the dust and eventually become buried and rot.
I - a gorgeously dressed beggar, trying my best to finish my life as a beggar!