A twelve-year-old child picked up another child, and their fates were tied together from then on. I am a child myself. How can I raise you? Then let the two dead children commit suicide together. I don't want to take care of the kids. I haven't had enough fun yet. But I don't know who else can help me except you.
In this book, I just write some stories that have been carved in my mind for a long time. I write casually and casually, wherever I think of it. I just want to tell you how good you are and thank you for coming into my life.
I thought it would be a narrative, but it turned out to be a letter. Since I got sick, my memory has always been trivial. The occasional memories are just fragments. I just record them, just for emotional sustenance. Don't be too serious. Anyway, you are more serious about me. Ignore it, don't argue, it's because you are right, don't ask, it's me who is wrong, admit it, the first place is a Buddhist pension contestant, don't push it, it won't necessarily be updated, it just depends on your mood, it's just some mood words, just for comfort, for a little entertainment, don't take it too seriously.
Intention: Life is inherently positive, you just need to quietly watch it grow