I, a wild child who grew up in a rural area, hate people calling me a wild girl without a father or a mother. But when I grow up, I find that some things and some people are better off than not. Like many left-behind children, I grew up in the countryside and then transferred to the big city where my parents live. But later I realized that the process of moving towards my parents is leaving my hometown. Sixteen years old is a good time, but it can also be a time of decline. Fortunately, I am very lucky in life. When I was sixteen, I met you when I was twenty.
The weeds that were not drowned in the heavy rain are now spreading wildly and growing wildly in the eyes of the world. You say that is me. That weed is your unintentional passing and your deliberate stay. You said, to be a weed, to grow in the wind, to be reckless, to be unscrupulous, to break the rough stones, to be covered with delicate roses, to be covered with you all over the mountains and plains, to make it impossible for people to step down, to be unavoidable.
Whether I became like that after all, I don't know. But you said that you don't know when the hilltops have grown up, and the mountains and plains are covered with that weed, growing wildly, making it impossible for you to avoid it.
Many encounters between people are accidental, and the process is absurd. Who knows the outcome...
Intention: Positive feelings in the world are all about letting each other be better versions of themselves, rather than asking each other to be what you want.
