Nothing special and time's going on. I'm sitting on the desk and the youth is gone. Just like a bird in a cage feeling down. No sunrise, no sunset, and only the ceiling upon. No fresh air, no fragrant flower, and only the cool air blown. Imagining walking in the cloud, in the wind, just like a bird chasing the sun and driving the sky. Dreaming of myself a wahle sailing through the ocean. Maybe a frog swimming in the forest where I've never been. As time goes by, nothing success in my life. Grabbing money in hand but nothing in mind. The life is noting but vacuity.
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