Her road was bumpy and bumpy, and she walked staggeringly for sixteen years. Haven't met that person yet. Someone who understands her and deserves her love. A person who made a pact with her in her previous life. Someone who can accompany her all the way.
She has spent too many years in a polluted world. She is very smart, but very hypocritical. You can still laugh and talk with people you despise. Laughter, for her, has become a disguise. I am afraid that one day I will lose myself.
She is still hesitating about her ideals. Reporter? Lawyer? In politics? Psychological counselor? No clear idea. Now, the only thing she can be sure of is:
Never give up on words.
She's still moving forward. Don't know where the road leads. However, if you want to reach tomorrow, you have to start now, and only she can make her journey to the future.
Tomorrow is another day.
Intention: