A woman's interest in anything rarely lasts long, but if she is prevented from pursuing it, her interest may grow even stronger. When you stand atop a mountain peak, never assume you are higher than the peak itself. Day after day, year after year, the original scars fade, yet a trace of bitterness lingers in the mind whenever they are remembered. Those once dearly loved have become strangers, and their love has vanished with the wind. One says they can forget, but life is like a play; an accidental encounter makes their departing silhouette drift through the mind as it once did, leaving a sadness that is hard to express. In the memories of winter, snow falls through the sky, soaking the footsteps of those seeking dreams. The north wind accompanies the crescent moon to write a fairy-tale script. In quiet contemplation, one watches the crowds passing by like puppets in a cage built of steel and concrete, treading hurriedly on marble floors under a grey sky that feels suffocating. We only have one life. While the length of our lives may be similar, their width is immeasurable. We cannot increase the length of our lives, but we can expand their width. Life is like fireworks, drifting through the crowd; craving warmth, yet the heart feels like an empty city. I once sang and danced through life, partying until dawn, but the innocence of those days has turned to dust. Life is like fireworks; no matter how brilliant it shines, it must eventually return to loneliness. The tenderness shared and the promises made have all dissolved into the vortex of time, turning into bubbles. The brilliant encounters and deep emotions leave behind only a lingering sorrow.
