Scissors

The scissors cut the hair short and cut off the worries...
Every encounter is a practice
Every encounter is a practice

The scissors cut the hair short and cut off the worries...
The scarf that strangles people is the strong love you give...
How big is the end of the world, let me walk, the mirror wave surface ripples...

It’s always easy to forget what you’ve seen…

The faint light spot is a warm light...

People living in different places each have their own miserable experiences...

The past is like clouds drifting away, and I am sighing...

I never dare to go to the scorpion-like carapace...

The base of my ears hurts and my mind burns...

The dim lights in the stuffy secret room flickered...