The world is harsh. It’s forgetful. But I hope there’s more people like me. Who will always remember.
Because nothing is permanent. Those who will pass on the precious knowledge. I kept sitting.
I turned around just to look at what I was leaning on. Crumbling bricks. I hiccupped and recognized it.
I was leaning on the Great Wall. I found it. There’s always hope left. Somewhere, sometime.
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