Chuunibyou: Known as Nothingness

I'm still writing, so please feel free to read.

Which is more painful, never having had anything, or losing everything?

I seriously wonder if I'm mentally ill or a transmigrator. My memories from before I transmigrated were perfectly ordinary, so why do I have to remember them in fragments?

Chuunibyou, a psychological need for excessive attention born of an overinflated sense of self, is really just about trying to look cool, isn't it? That's how young people think.

What exactly is love? An illusion we act out, or a kind of possession?

I've always felt that a person's worth has two parts: emotional value and survival value. Like gold and sand, the part you're missing is the precious one.

Hey, hey, you don't think a world as commonplace as this is as rare as a pearl in the sea, do you? It's more like seawater. The sea is probably hard to distinguish from itself. Look, they'll always come around, won't they? Good? Evil? No, no, it's not that simple.

Come on, the world's final revelry. Everything will bloom like flowers, then rot and wither.