Truth is always less than real, and betrayal is perhaps the best way to show loyalty. I know how to use tarot, and I like to appreciate the horror of the solver's heart when they are exposed. But I never divinate myself, no matter how helpless I am. Because, I can't use the sword nine or the moon to justify my fate, except for betrayal, of course.

My dreams are full of light. This kind of light is not simply righteousness and justice in an absolute sense. For me, it comes from a beauty of reality itself, a loyalty to things as they are. It is based on an objective sense, and once you grasp it, you can stand on top of the human soul, like the holder of the tarot card, to judge all life. You will find that the definition of the value of life that you once had will become worthless. Whether they are strong or vulnerable, whether they are virtuous or vulgar, whether they are concubines or ugly, whether they are happy or mournful, they are like confidants, siblings, brothers, and sisters. Their existence is suddenly beautiful, and their existence is imbued with the same amount of spirit that nature has endowed with it.

These are worthy of being approached in the most enthusiastic way. I opened my eyes and kissed them. But you know, it's just a dream. Reality is never what you can imagine, so I'm not looking for it. I had already given myself a precautionary shot when I was struggling with a sweet sleep, I sorted out my mood, packed my bags, and said goodbye to the fragrant pillow that had given me a sweet smile with a firm smile, and decided to find the truth that could be touched.

I opened the door, and there was a green patch—a deep castor forest, and the golden yellow that shot out of the gaps in the branches and leaves was the light that had appeared in my dreams. It was familiar and charming, and I was about to be enchanted by her. At this moment, a sudden cold snap blew from distant Siberia, which was as cold as a sharp knife, and pierced into my skin, and I was in pain. The more I moved forward, the stronger the coldness became. I couldn't look straight ahead, so I had to walk in the wind.

Thankfully, I saw the sun as I crossed the first forest. Through the shadows in the sand, I felt that I had become much stronger, and what a thing to celebrate, so I took my first sip of water as a tribute to my growth.

Compared with pain, happiness is always short and illusory, don't be cold, the road in front of you is an endless desert. The food in the bag kept dwindling, but the bag was getting heavier and heavier, and I swore it was a spell cast by God. Every next step was harder than that, and it wasn't long before I fell into the hot sand. There were bright red wounds on my dry white lips, and the water on my body was drained little by little by the scorching sun, and I felt like I was about to lose my soul and become an empty shell. In the midst of pain, I asked myself, why did I give up my warm sleep and take refuge in confusion? Where is that real body? Everything around me seems to have to joke with me before I stop? Does it exist?

In a coma, a sea blue flower in front of me was as clear and beautiful as a sweet spring, which made me regain my faith. I don't know how long it took, but the cool and refreshing wind passed through my heart, and the blue sea had turned into an ocean in front of me. I looked at the endless sea, where there was countless loneliness and melancholy, and it was clear that this was not what I wanted. But that inertia of constantly facing the unknown has made it impossible for me to turn back.

At this moment, helplessness and pain are intertwined in every corner of my body, and I decided to try to have an intimate hug with it, maybe what I am looking for is there. The afterglow of the setting and the fierce waves are like a shining coat, and my shadow dances with the golden light. The wind sends the waves, and after every passion, it is invisible.

Did I find the one I was looking for? But what was what I was going to get or really getting? I couldn't really explain my deck. Because, what is real? I was amazed to find that the world's definition of anything at all poles had been skewed, and my original key to ideals had been mislabeled. Solemn sounds like a thin one, elegant but also absurd. In fact, it all started before it even began.

The reality of my dreams has crept away, and I already suspect that this reality has never been real. Did I betray the world, or did my dreams betray me, or did we all betray the light?

Time flies, time is like an arrow.