Endless Tears

I always think about history, memories, experiences, and nostalgia. I like history. I think I am more suitable for history. History is the color of autumn, which only exists on withered yellow leaves. It is as flawed as me and has my worldview or even smaller. It makes me confident - there is a feeling that the development of society has nothing to do with me. In fact, to be honest, I It has nothing to do with me. I walked too slowly and started too late. I always feel that the promotion of society is not decided by everyone but by a few people. They erase the boundaries and draw another one. I am like an old man in this world. The familiar world is gone and curled up in the corner of the remaining warmth. I can only pretend to be happy when I see someone better than me. In fact, my heart is broken. The more I am told about the beauty that I don't have, the more I feel inferior. The more I know that everyone has things that I don't have, the more scared I become. The world is full of hostility towards me. I can only be more careful, using pretended dignity to protect myself, but the more I am bruised...