It's just a drop of rain, that's all. Falling from a great height, it strikes straight against the bus window, scattering and flowing down, dragging long trails behind it. The passengers inside the window simply look at the scenery streaming by before their eyes; they don't pay attention to the rainwater sliding down the window. My life, my tears, quietly disappeared, death was predestined at the very moment of birth, falling towards hell from the start.
Not understanding the brilliance of the world, never having seen the sunlight, not knowing how clear the blue sky is, nor ever contemplating life. It seems as if I've never been here, leaving no trace behind. Murky, mixed with soil, crushed by the wheels of a car. Flowing, dying.
Confused? Seeing the world, understanding one's own death, but unable to see the true self. Feeling despondent, feeling panic, sensing the pain of heart spasms. Knowing that it hasn't ended yet, not dead yet, struggling, but experiencing pain over and over again.
That's it, give up. Let the wind take me away! Drifting, don't stop. Is that blue the sky? Is that brightness the sunlight? Tears come, falling again, remembering the cycle of rebirth, life cycling into death, the cycle never stops. The meaning of life lies in death, in how one departs, how the process of death is designed.
Rebirth, gaining life, though painful, still retains memories from the previous life. The road ahead will continue steadily.
(End)
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Once, I saw something like this in a newspaper or magazine.
As night falls.
Perhaps we are just a mistake.