The night is getting deeper and deeper, the street lamps are getting clearer and clearer, and the mind is getting lonely. Wandering alone in the street, I don't know where to go. Everyone is heading for their destination, and I, with no beginning and no end, just wander aimlessly like a ghost.
If I don't know the result, maybe I will wait forever. If there is no result in waiting, maybe I will wait forever. Waiting for beauty is also a kind of beauty. If we wait for the result, no matter what the result is, we may not continue to have regrets and sorrows, but no matter what the result is, maybe I will walk slowly with this only memory and dream slowly. ...
Maybe God destined me to be a weeping grass ...?