If our life consisted of paper, we would probably have a pencil in one hand and an eraser in the other.
We used to scribble on a white page without listening to anything. We looked, it was not like in our dreams, we would delete it from where we started. Until we regained consciousness. But I'm sorry, our life is not paper, we can't shape our lines like a pencil. And most importantly, our mistakes and mistakes are not erased with an eraser..