How unremarkable it is.
No, a hollow superficiality
During the loss of the value of existence
The illusion of weighing numbers is nothing more than a number
Filled with dissatisfaction from joy and sorrow
What meaning should I live for?
It’s an impossible world.
Always drawn by time
Rubbing and tearing
Sometimes I even cried at the slander
Sometimes I laugh at the tricks,
Pushed by the great current of change
Maybe the very existence of myself
Isn’t that a great stroke of luck!
Unpredictable tomorrows
If you know everything, it’s boring.
How mysterious and subtle,
In the cycle of transformation
As we bumped and rolled around,
I can only be fully satisfied.
I comfort it as a memory.
Yes, after all, I am just human.
If I have one small wish,
Let go of past futile greed,
Within a small fence
With my little love,
Dreaming of small happiness
I want to be a very ordinary me.
Just small but beautiful
Just go along with the changes of heaven and earth,
More faithful to being alive
Life is what you live anyway, moving forward
On a fleeting journey
Just walking well without being negligent
Tired of it. Put it down under your feet.