I feel like my memory is increasingly running on empty. I often forget the books I’ve read. A lot of the time, someone or something seems familiar, but it’s like looking at flowers through a fog or scratching an itch through a boot. I can’t explain what I mean at all. As my old man would put it, most of what I read goes straight into a dog’s belly. So I might as well start a series of essays for myself and treat them as reading notes. Of course, there are plenty of make-believe scenes in them to help me remember and understand.
Waiter, won't you write new articles?
Already collected~~This is Semir, why is there only one chapter! ! Beat