I am a down-and-out novelist, teetering on the verge of not being able to afford food every day.
I don't have any bad intentions, but I often write some secondary stuff to vent my feelings because I can't help the sadness and anger in my heart.
... Of course, the writing is so bad that it has never been reused.
Later, I died in a car accident.
... Maybe
An unknown manuscript was placed at the door of an obscure publishing house. People who saw him were amazed by it, and people were amazed by the beauty of his mourning. The first time, the second time... The owner of the manuscript was almost on the verge of death. People tried to save him, but they didn't even know where he was. The envelope he sent was nowhere to be found, and his corrupt desires became more and more depressed.
The owner of the manuscript is a genius.
He's also a genius who doesn't know it, and is a wretch who can't be saved.
Intention: Discover your own shining point