Don't Stop, Head North

Fleeting clouds and morning dew, turning round and round.

Over the past year, chaotic, bustling, and disordered, lost in the current of time. At the crossroads of years, time slips by, affections change, and exhaustion silently passes without a sound until the winter and spring arrive.

Life is fleeting. Old years, old calendars, and old times bring only sighs.

Like a strong heart, withstand the late frost and the cold, ignoring the gaps and distortions seen in the mirror; aging and shadows, flowers flying across long distances, how much residual memories can one cherish, awakening with a start, only to find oneself drunk and without joy.

There are two 'I' within my soul – hatred, opposition.

One is warm, gentle, soft, and kind; the other is dark, lonely, and stubborn. One moment, a fleeting emotion floods over, followed by tears; the next, sarcasm and criticism, refusing to yield to reason.

For superficial, mindless interactions, empty pleasantries, and gradual distancing; seeing through hypocrisy, further withdrawal. Self-reflection and sudden changes; deep slumber and summoning. This does not prevent loving someone, being loved, and being an admirer; one can accompany wanderers and travelers, following rivers and mountains.