I drew a girl late at night and she became a sperm and then started messing with me.
Steal my snacks, waste my dyes, and use my most expensive pen to pick out my ears.
Every day is full of chaos, but she never feels it is too much.
But one day, she asked softly: "What were you thinking about when you painted me?
I didn't answer.
Because I rely on my innate ability to draw her. The more straight I draw, the more "alive" she becomes.
This ability is obtained by exchanging things. I forget more and more things, and I almost forget how I draw them.
I'm afraid that one day, when I pick up the pen, I won't be able to draw her. She comes closer
, thought seriously for a while: "Then I will remember it for you. Whatever you forgot, I will remember for you. "
