We always row with thoughts of the other shore, as if we would do anything to get there. However, when we actually reach the other shore, we yearn for every bit of the past, even the suffering.
But do you know that this will happen but you still row towards the other shore...
When the prosperity is hard to come back, the old friends blend into the endless gorgeous light, leaving only the whispers once, do I still have no answer...
The world of mortals is like a dream, and in a moment of youth, I ask the heaven why is life necessary? Dream like smoke...