A certain day, a certain second, a certain plot, a certain person, seem familiar, but only some fragments are fragmented. When I think about it again, I feel relieved. Life is like a wall, time is hurt, and the infinite possibility of time has eroded the memory until it turns yellow. It's not our fault.
Being loved or ignored, laughing in front of others and crying behind others, we never tire of it. We are always wandering in the rivers and lakes, losing our way...
Intention: