I lost myself early, and I suffered bit by bit in the vast white reality. I covered the wound that was bleeding profusely and could hardly hold on to my soul.
Even my soul despises me, she despises this rotten body. She complained that I couldn't live a colorful life, and she resented that I had lost my personality.
I stood in front of my relatives and friends with my head down, but they asked me to hold my head high and be a good person, and asked me to kneel down to reality...
What I hear now is very different from what I heard in the past.
I know that I am living in the way that I hate the most, but I have forgotten what I like... What it is like.
In the muddy reality, I dragged my heavy steps and held on to my dim hope.
I can't find it, I can't find it... I want to be ruthless enough to stand up, but I can't be so ruthless as to leave everything behind.
Mayfly dare not yearn for the sun, the outside world encourages me, and my relatives hold me back. I'm teetering on the edge of relief...
Soul... Please, bear with me a little longer...
Intention: Talk to yourself and admit suffering
