The idea of writing something often comes up. I make a lot of mistakes in my mind and make up many stories, but I fail to successfully complete a story. Even gradually, you start to respond less actively when the idea of writing something comes up. I'm a little worried that you will eventually completely lose this ability to record yourself, and become a piece of dead soil that is airtight and non-absorbent, with all its nutrients exhausted. I have recollected the fragments of words you have written in all the corners in the past few years, put them together and sorted them out, and I feel a little more alive again. You have written a lot in the past ten years. Most of them are the two diaries you filled in when you were still in school. They were lost when you moved last time. I will sort out the rest and put them here one after another. I will take a look at them to regain my energy when I fall into chaos and numbness in the future.
Intention: No matter what you encounter, don't be afraid, calm down and keep talking to me