Recently, life has been very chaotic and I feel very upset. . . For me, the only way to vent is the pen in my hand. . . Explode. . Explode in words, burst out those hypocritical, selfish, dirty, cowardly, stupid, shameful emotions. . . Thank God for giving me the only way to express my feelings. . . My pen is my heart, and the ink flowing from the tip of my pen is my memory. My emotion. . .
For, the past, moved ----- vividly in my mind. Sad ------- shocking. . . .
For now, I am too lazy to spend time and energy on things that seem to have no real meaning. . . Maybe this is a little bit of growth awareness after the storm. . . As someone said: Rather than sacrificing your sleep to watch a sunrise, it is better to encounter a sunset at an unexpected time. . .
(I Am a Bad Girl) writes about the growth process of a bad girl transforming into a bad woman. She is not bad in nature, but she is hurt time and time again by the people she likes. Slowly, she began to wake up, began to understand, and gradually became addicted to an ambiguous game that could not be expressed in words.
Ambiguity is not love. Love can have ambiguity, but game love is rejected in an ambiguous world.