In people's minds, joy and sadness are almost intertwined, alternating with each other at an unpredictable and puzzling speed.
When I was young, I imagined myself as a beehive. All kinds of ordinary rough people, like bees, send the knowledge and thoughts of life into the hive. They tried their best to enrich my mind generously. This kind of bee is often dirty and bitter, but as long as it is knowledge, it is honey.
Night has come, a powerful, fresh and caring thing like a loving mother, like a hug, silence is like a warm and furry hand gently caressing, brushing away everything that should be forgotten in memory and all the fine dust that eroded people during the day.