I believe that everyone's encounter is driven by fate. In the vast sea of people, we will be moved by countless people, and countless people will fall in love with us, but in the end only a few will stay. We grow in the eyes of others, but forget to understand the meaning of life ourselves. When we get old and look for ourselves in our minds, we find that the ourselves in our memories only exist to cater to others. We begin to rack our brains to recall, comforting ourselves that maybe there was a real self in a fragment of memory, but in fact you don't know it. The first time I didn't hand in my homework, the first time I talked back to my parents, the first time I played video games, the first time I drank, the first time I cried for a boy or a girl. This may be a true self. We are growing up and we are injured in our youth. And the one we once thought we hated the most may be the one we love the most.
Conception: