Behind Him Are Footprints Covered with Fallen Leaves

Life is a yellowed poem, vague but touching. A dream is looking up, a little bit of hope cast by the bright stars. Tomorrow is an unknown blind box. When you open it, you will be disappointed or surprised. Those are the experience points leading to the future. The future may not be satisfactory, but it will certainly not make us walk through it crying or kneeling in confusion.