A story about growing up.
A story about an eight-year-old girl and her thirty-year-old senior brother.
Encounter, acquaintance, love, pain, plainness,
Life will not favor anyone in particular,
Sweet and sour, that is the taste of youth.
"One day,
I finally found out,
I can actually accept so many things,
What was once unimaginable and unacceptable turned out to be so ridiculous.
Even, simply sad.
People,
It's always better than what you think is the bottom line,
Have a stronger ability to accept,
In reluctance, resistance, struggle, collapse,
Little by little, being eaten away,
accept, change,
After that, it was calm.
Sorry,
I didn't become it after all,
In that dream,
perfect self,
Likewise, we can never meet again,
The Wuji that belongs to me. "
——To my eighteen years old
"Busy, busy,
Stop and go,
Search, search, search,
What is the so-called love that is pure to death?
I once thought,
It should be a little girl who has never experienced the world,
Love me with all your heart and be loved,
However,
Trust brought by ignorance and simplicity,
So fragile,
The more familiar you are, the more defensive you are,
When trust becomes a luxury product,
Can I still go on?
The crossroads of life,
Where to go?
I really don't want to compromise with fate,
What I can't give up is,
longing for love,
So, just keep going like this,
I wish,
I have been lucky in three lifetimes,
Have love. "
——To my thirty years old