Truth is like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream。

It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom。

诗歌是一种非常个人化的艺术。

世界上充满了显而易见的事情，却没有人注意到。