It appears that I am perpetually hastening, yet the bus ahead of me still hastens away, leaving naught but my disheartened and weary silhouette. Those exclamations, pursuits, and desperate inhalations persistently reverberate in the desolate platform, lingering, lingering, lingering interminably, akin to despair. Whilst perennially awaiting, destiny wafts past my gaze like billows and vapors, and I am laden with desires as diminutive as ants, an inconsequential and enervated existence, and those fraught with sentiments. Indeed, no one can elude the tribulations and acrimony, and no one can remain indifferent to their own catastrophe. I habitually embark and disembark the bus amidst the throng, incessantly being jostled and metamorphosing. Human…