They said I had depression or autism, and they looked at me with pity, consciously or unconsciously. To be honest, I don't care, they are as stupid as spring marshmallows to me anyway. I'm waiting, waiting for a man like A Xiang to walk out from the cracks of time, wearing a high-end black gift, kneeling on one knee and saying to me: My dear, let's die together.
Conception: