When I sleep, I forget. I will dream and feel empty at the same time. The past love has died, and I am very happy about this death, because I can know that my love once existed. The dead love has decayed, and I am also happy for this decay, because I can find a trace of love through this. With this trace of old love, I will explore and have new love. Love, whose mask has been torn by me, is no longer beautiful, leaving behind a ferocious desire, which is my sorrow. Desire, humanity, and a primitive and ferocious face. However, it is hidden. When you are unprepared, it can occupy your fragile heart and your feelings. At the same time, it can split all moral barriers, break through all secular traps, untie the shackles that imprison desire, and arbitrarily override love. However, if the desire goes on, it will be trampled by the secular and blocked by morality until it dies and decays. But I'm fearless, I'm fearless. I will pierce the moral emptiness with the dagger of my mind. I love my desire, but I hate this morality decorated with love. The soul rushes at night. It is so flustered and confused that there is no way to escape. Once the fire of love is lit, it can start a prairie fire and burn all the so-called love, desire and morality, and it will not be extinguished until it is burned out and all traces are destroyed. But I'm fearless, I'm fearless. I will brandish my ruthless dagger and stab into the secular sky. The world is like a cage, and I am in it. I can't tear off all the nets, I can't tear off all the masks. Even if the world is not like a cage, I can't tear it apart. But I will indulge my desires, that's for sure. In light and darkness, in love and hate, in spirit and flesh, in nobility and vulgarity, in morality and immorality, in front of all those who love and don't love. For myself, for light and darkness, for love and hate, for spirit and flesh, for nobility and vulgarity, for morality and immorality, for all those who love and don't love, I hope my desire will burn to death. Otherwise, I have never had love, which is more unfortunate than death and decay. Go, my desire. With my love.