The floating life is white, the broken flowers are dizzy, the trajectory of the world remains unchanged forever, the dust that thinks it is shrewd collides with each other, and finally falls to the ground in gray. Time is also a stickler. Everything is born with the falling into the water, and sets with the rising sun. It is determined as a side or a pole among thousands of theorems. We call it "divine skeleton". In layman's terms, it is the sum of the supernatural. Each pole needs to maintain and hide secrets, but some secrets should be known.
I have a cold name and sparse words. I am an observer standing on the edge of human nature. I don't shed tears for family affection or sigh for love. I hate myself. I am indifferent and cold-eyed. I don't know what I am or who I am, so life is not very important. But I still feel that I have to live for an answer, or maybe a person... I don't know. In short, selfish people tend to There are good results, so egoists are smart, but I am not. I am not for myself, and I have forgotten who I am for. By accident or deliberate opportunity, I agreed to find the secret of the "Pole" and changed the answer to asking about time. After meeting "Him", He said, you already know the answer. I saw a heart, and there was dust beating in the dead silence.
It turns out that I am time
Intention: If you work hard, you will find in the end that what you have is what you have already obtained.