The adult world is so complicated. You can’t speak the truth, for it cuts too deep. It seems truth would hurt their pride—how could they tolerate you speaking it, especially when they’re in the wrong? Even if you point it out, you still have to submit to their authority. No matter how unwilling you are, what’s the use?
After all, generations have been like this. Trying to speak the truth is like courting disaster, isn’t it?
Sigh, Doudou, I suddenly feel so sad. You can’t speak the truth; the moment you do, you’re suppressed.
Is the world really like this? No room for truth, no room for kind people?
They never talk about their own flaws. The second you fail to meet their expectations, you’ll witness ugly scenes that suffocate you. What’s more, for a child with no independence—what do they have to fight back with? If they dare resist, they’re labeled rebellious, yet no one sees the true thoughts behind their actions.
Why would they ever readily admit they’re in the wrong too?
