Every painting is a self-portrait, even when it's not.
And when they leave,they take your life of details with them. You are expected to move on again, but you don't remember what it was that moved you, because no one's asked you in so long. Not even yourself.
We know so little about each other. We lie mostly submerged, like ice floes, with our visible social selves projecting only cool and white.
一个好句子是一个小小的奇迹。