Winter nights, always pitch black to the core!
The moonlight is desolate and dim, lacking any brilliance; this night is like a pool of stagnant dead water, gathering in one place, devoid of any sign of life!
It's as if one has sunk to the boundless ocean floor, without Sunshine, without a trace of vitality!
Lingfeng locked his phone screen and placed it under his pillow, drew out a cigarette, silently lit it, and exhaled rings of smoke one after another. The loneliness that lined up and released formed wound upon wound, becoming a timed scenery in the Dark Night!
Perhaps, we always try to seek out traces of happiness, indulging in that sliver of almost "illusory" pleasure. When everything dissipates, such desolation seems particularly stark!
Insomnia, when it becomes a habit, is not so terrifying anymore!
Only, the focus of life begins to shift in the river of existence!
And all this, is happening unconsciously!
