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Yesterday Comes Again 2
p>I lay on the white guardrail of the overpass, face down, my pupils filled with cars passing by. This is a corner of the world that belongs to my eyes. In this small world, only my thoughts are flowing. Like rushing blood. The dancing sunlight blooms on my hair and on the fine lines of my skin, and then fills this small world. There was a soft breeze that slowly slid past my cheeks without making any sound. Broken footsteps filled the streets and alleys of the city like the morning twilight. A group of running children passed behind me. I didn't look back. I was looking at the various vehicles under the overpass. In the dream, I had the enjoyment of falling from the overpass. That kind of fall was a kind of loneliness where time and space were completely separated, with nothing to rely on. This feeling is completely opposite to the comfort of lying in the cradle. I have every reason to believe how terrible the loneliness derived from this separation is. I don’t want to die yet. My life has just begun to enter the era of youth and innocence, an era that makes me at a loss but full of infinite expectations. How can I be willing to hand over my life to death easily? Moreover, I don’t have enough courage to let go. He died. This is just a ridiculous idea, a joke I made to myself. I believe that when I really have to face death one day, my body will tremble and I will cry...