He seems to be living in the clouds, but in fact he has been sinking into the abyss little by little since his birth. Family, family, relatives, I thought that I would be stuck in the quagmire in my life with no way out. He used to be his childhood playmate, but he never thought of him again after many years. Returning to the old city again, I didn't expect to see him again. He approached slowly and backed away step by step. The young man's thoughts are intertwined with the pots, pans, chickens and dogs. Which one is the sharp knife that pierces the chest first and the blood that falls into the soil first, or which one grabs his hand and leads him to the light?
Purpose: Redeem me, and also you who are trapped by depression like me