If a happy future is a door, I have passed that door countless times, heard the laughter and laughter inside the door, and have been eager to enter that door, but never had the courage to push it open. There is a clock next to the door. As the number of times you pass by increases, the hour hand points further and further. It wasn't until my temples turned gray, until the clock struck twelve o'clock at midnight, and the surroundings became dark, that I kept fumbling for the light. When the light came on, I looked at the bright room, and suddenly realized that I had always been inside the door of the future, and the door I had rubbed shoulders with countless times was happiness.
But when I staggered to push open the door, my hand was suddenly bounced away, and I realized that I had lost the qualification to push the door in; because I was like the last number of the clock, and there was no next moment.
Intention: The plainness and ups and downs of life