All I have been doing is praying for local cooling, local rainfall, and local love. But then when I was twenty-six years old, I was flipping through the unfamiliar photos in my photo album, and I didn't even know what effect my prayers had had over the years. Every word I spoke to my friends while sitting at the tea table, the young man I had a crush on, the love I kissed under the dim yellow light, all fell silent.
My joy factor began to gradually die out at the age of twenty. The breeze I had been so fond of no longer blew to me alone, but was mixed in the anxious air, escaping from me, running behind me, and returning to my youth.
Intention: I always want to get back what I lost in my dreams. It was my favorite breeze that told me my intention.