A Paper Butterfly

Perhaps the paper butterfly trapped on the bottomless staircase is also saddened by the torrential rain.

I want to use this little thing, unimportant as it may be, to record a year that belonged only to us.

Even if hardly anyone remembers it.

I remember the essay I once wrote, titled "The Definition of Youth."

Back then, I didn't know what it was. I only wrote:

It is sincere, it is passionate, and it never stops telling us so.

That is exactly how it should be defined.