"On a midwinter night, the whole world seems deserted. I haven't seen the warm sun for a long time, and I don't want to go out of my small room. People are always like this, faced with a change that is imminent at hand, and suddenly they want to fall. How long will this loneliness be resolved? And who can give me the answer I want?

Many times I hope that I will not fall into narrow-mindedness, not be burdened by the mundane, and not be rampant in loneliness, but I can't get out of such a spiral. The winter wind is howling in front of me, and I feel daunted. Disturbed minds, unable to find a window for catharsis. I was at my desk calculating time, money, and dreams, and I had so little that I would look at myself with pity.

I looked at the words I had written, the photographs I had taken, and the letters I had sent from afar, and it turned out that what I once had had had was gradually gone; I've forgotten how I felt. I miss the sunshine at that time too much, and I miss the camphor too much. Now I am like a beast that roams the wilderness, without a goal and without a ferocity.

In the winter night, I feel the cold that soaks into my body inch by inch. The softness of that passage passed before my eyes; Everything about spring has long been cut off by the years, and the well-being I say from the bottom of my heart is more like a sarcasm.

I also walked on muddy roads during the frosty season, and the deep and shallow footprints were drowned by the intermittent rain. Perhaps, all memories will be like this, when the withered maple leaf slipped, in fact, the whole autumn had withered.

In the old days, everything I loved was still laughing in my back. Later, it was like a door that suddenly opened in the dark, and the blinding light easily disrupted the vision. Occasionally, I think about what the future will look like. There seemed to be nothing more in my mind than the years that went on and on. Dreams are like a kite with a broken string, and I am the child standing in the middle of the square, still tugging at the half of the string. There is still a hope hidden in his eyes, a mood that is almost naïve and stubborn.

Each period of time has a different weight, and every person you meet means a different past. I think I'll remember it at some point, or I'll regret it. After this winter, everything that was once safe is about to change. It's another unwilling experience, or an unrepentant yearning.

Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey.

Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey. Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let the youth betray the boring promise of childishness, let

Time depicts the grief of the rotation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by each journey. : Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey. Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey.

Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey.

Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey. Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey.

Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey. Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey. Everything from yesterday came back to the moment, when we first met, and the sunset painted our smiling faces in a quiet tone. How will we remember and pay tribute to those who are on the other side of the glory in the future? I still listen every second, and I worry in every moment.

In the years to come, let youth betray the boring promises of childishness, let time portray the grievances of reincarnation, and let the past soothe the desolation left behind by every journey.