I don't know what human sorrow is. I never knew that the more I know, the more painful, helpless and confused I will be.
I have always had the urge to cry, and it has always been for myself, because I can't do the things I like, love the people I love to the fullest, can't solve all the painful things that happened to me, can't help the people I care about... All of this hurts and makes me sad, and I feel that my existence is worthless.
I keep listening to sentimental songs and reading sentimental articles, hoping to see something more painful than mine, trying to alleviate my pain, but the more I see it, the more painful it becomes. I really want to help them, to help them get rid of the hopeless but inextricable pain, even if they are just characters in the author's works, just non-existent nothingness. I never knew words could bring me such great sadness.
Perhaps the tragedy of human beings lies in knowing too much.
Is God too jealous of human wisdom, or has human happiness reached its peak and begun to decline?