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The gap between life and death is narrower than a 5cm fence. The moment you cross the fence, it's like a shooting star falling down the skyscrapers and trapped up among them. It's neither fortunate nor unfortunate. It's like a walking corpse, who reps what he sows. On a night with (invisible) twinkling stars like this, I wish I could ask my lover who is waiting for me in the next life this : "Are you happy now?" ; "Are you wishing whether to die or live?" |
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