Friends, passersby, pedestrians

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　　Life itself holds infinite possibilities; I am just one who walks on this path. I don’t know who I will meet once it gets dark, nor who I will say goodbye to when I wake from my dreams. I simply keep walking along this journey of life… It doesn’t matter whether one lives or dies. Perhaps tomorrow we will reach the end of the road; perhaps heavy steps of disappointment will entangle a figure filled with pain, but who can say for sure? 　　The morning breeze blows in, carrying a hint of spring’s freshness. I don’t like weather that hides things, but there’s nothing I can do; I simply watch quietly as everything unfolds before my eyes. The small trees by the roadside have gone through countless springs and autumns; I look at them, and they look back at me. Perhaps many years ago we were very close friends; we might have played together for a long time, to the point that today I don’t even realize I ever met her in my life. Maybe I don’t even recognize her at all, but from dawn to dusk every day, I feel as though I know her very well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m sure I’m not completely crazy yet. 　　Over the passing years, the concept of friendship has faded away, its true meaning gradually being lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life. I don’t know why, but I feel an inexplicable sadness; fate is gradually revealing its unique magic, in the stories of having no fixed home, on the journey of wandering from place to place, and through the times spent sleeping on the streets. I don’t know if the heart should have a fixed place; I’m not sure how one should determine one’s proper place. I even don’t know whether I can become friends with you. After wandering around for a while, my heart remained hidden in some unknown depths, covered by a thick layer of disguise. I thought that’s just the way it should be, and I never doubted myself at all. But one day, the wind blew and took everything away, taking away what was once thought to be the most important foundation. Suddenly, it seemed that everyone was wearing a special mask to hide their innocence and loneliness. Our desperate struggles were actually attempts to escape, and our hysterical cries served only to conceal our most vulnerable sides. At that time, I suddenly realized that I truly needed a real friend – someone who could help us express our innermost feelings. Someone with whom we could let the storms pass over our faces without any restraint. But when such a situation arose, I found that the doors of my heart had already become too sealed to be opened. How many times did I walk aimlessly in the darkness, how many times did I hurry past people on busy streets? You never knew me, and I never paid attention to your story either. The leaves fell quietly at some point, merging with the soil without anyone noticing; the bare branches swayed freely, either as a final farewell or as part of some special ritual, in anticipation of new leaves emerging. But one thing is for sure: the wind is still blowing, leaves are scattered all over the ground, and the night gradually becomes increasingly quiet. The gray sky offers nothing worth lingering on. There’s still a long path ahead to walk, and it seems as though the unfinished stories continue to tempt us to fall asleep peacefully… I’ve forgotten when I felt that way; I can’t recall the exact date. We were just strangers, who never appeared in each other’s memories, each going our own way. Perhaps there was a brief glimpse, perhaps just a fleeting contact, or maybe we never even noticed someone passing by. Such is the awareness of passersby: there’s no need to spend much thought on it, no need to suffer for long over what has been lost, and certainly no need to blame oneself due to the hardships brought on by day and night. But one day, suddenly, the barrier between us was broken; due to some coincidence, or perhaps inevitability, we became what could be called friends. We don’t know what this really means, or what it might bring, but amidst that blind joy, there arose a sense of loneliness in our hearts. We have never considered what tomorrow will bring, nor do we care whether there will be a farewell today; for we have always been merely passersby. The only difference is that we, as such passersby, have walked too long on this desolate road, seeking a temporary place to rest in order to comfort ourselves. Furthermore, a busy life brings us not only forgetfulness but also loneliness in our free time. Of course, when we were children, we never thought about such things or paid attention to how to face everything in this world on our own. Yet, without realizing it, we have covered so much distance along this path. On it, we are merely passersby, or can only be passersby. Perhaps we use the word \"friend\" often, but deep in our hearts there is not the slightest change; we hold onto the feelings from our childhood tightly, refusing to let even a hint of the outside world’s freedom get in. And so, without even time to say goodbye, without any words of farewell, being buried in oblivion becomes the ultimate fate of those who are strangers to each other. Lying in the embrace of the long night, with the wind whispering in my ears, I can no longer remember whether you and I have ever been in this world! The only thing I realized is that it feels like I’ve already lived for a long time. 　　Life must go on, but the path ahead always seems a bit confusing for young people; sometimes they even can’t figure out what their purpose in life is. It’s not clear whether it’s a loss of confidence in the hopes for tomorrow, or whether it’s an innate instinct of humans – as they move forward, everything around them seems to change, and it becomes difficult to distinguish between the past and the present. They just stumble along, not even remembering in which season the hardships will arrive. Occasionally, I complain to myself about why I care so much about everything around me. You and I are just people walking on the road; perhaps we have nothing in common, and we simply cover our faces while silently complaining about our own fates. In the bustling cities, there seems to be no longer any distinction between night and day; those in a state of revelry can no longer tell whether they are feeling sorrow or joy. Where will the fate of humanity ultimately lead? Where then is the hope for rebirth? Perhaps it’s just walking on the road, meeting briefly and parting in a hurry – why hold it dear to heart? For some reason, I felt much happier; there was even a bit of inexplicable joy. I think I understand that one must always do something throughout life. On this journey of life, we meet many companions; sometimes we share our thoughts with each other, and at other times we remain silent, meeting for just a brief moment before disappearing without a trace. Yet this is the common destiny of humanity. No matter what our thoughts may be, we must keep moving forward, whether as friends, as strangers, or simply as unrelated passersby. 　　The autumn wind has begun to blow, and the nights have become slightly cooler. I want to take a look at the sky outside, no longer worried about being alone. Walking along the path of life that is meant for me, I plant my own saffron flowers in these little-known wildernesses. I don’t know if one day they will attract the attention of others, but this is the life journey I must undertake. Goodbye! Goodbye, friend! Strangers, you and I walk on the road; we simply walk on it.