When I was 20 years old, I wrote these lightly with the writing style of a 15-year-old. These things happened one after another during my growth. My life gradually unfolds in these events that are neither salty nor bland. Those things that have happened in the past and the people who have appeared before are some familiar and some strange, but they are ultimately destined to disappear. To you, those innocent moans and vulgarities may have become the most precious plot in my numerology to me. Do you remember? In those disconnected memories, I once thought about yesterday.