The world is a pale sky and a rolling black sea. Everyone looked pale. Can't hear anything, nasty stuff.
A resentful person who can ignore everything.
You can give up everything, even the things you hate.
Because after this empty land rushes towards the unknown black hole at the end of prosperity, after the cold touch rolls and condenses at the end of the skin, after sadness flies away from the sky like a bird into the distance.
You will all die.
"Life is a farce and we don't wake up until we die."
——Xiao Hui
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