Many years later, I began to believe that some things or some people are just our memorials.

The past is easy to be cold, and flowers bloom and fall to remember the clear autumn.

The world began to be unconsciously empty, and I have nothing to hide with bitter regrets and sighs.

Get rid of the baggage that has been tortured for a long time, get on the bus with a happy mood, and bathe your heart with sunshine! Bury all the haze!

In the past, looking at that pile of burnt photos//

Floating life is just a reflection. I once had a love story. As a teenager, when I was in love.

Self-directed and self-performed, that wanton heart.

He and I used to borrow each other's hesitation to keep warm in a gap in our lives.

I understand that fallen leaves fall with the wind and belong to the withering on the ground.

At the end of this winter, I dance with it with my sadness.

The temperature of the eye socket boils for a second, leaving an unforgettable line of time.

You are the haze that I can't walk out of in my life.