My precognitive dreams left me unsettled, conversations with friends put me in uneasy predicaments, and I thought I had to leave some trace...
Memories are like flipping through an old calendar. The joyful and painful times that have appeared in the past have become the same color. They are refreshed over and over in my mind and sometimes appear in my dreams. Gradually, I can't see his face clearly. The writing on the yellowed paper is equally dim, making it difficult to distinguish the secrets hidden in the puzzle.
Every time I wake up from a nightmare, I am like a drowning man who has finally grasped the floating straw. My own salvation is a symbol and a hope for myself to live again.
In the same way, memories cannot restore the past life. They only occasionally remind us of what we had in the past. Such reminders are often tampered with to convince ourselves every time, but our memories require such tampering to satisfy our inner desires, so that our lives can become rich and full.
When I realized that the memories were getting more and more blurred, I began to stop just thinking about them. I tried to write down everything about the past so that they would disappear. The slower I started to wake up my memories, the more slowly I began to wake up my memories.
I also believe that this kind of memory does not only belong to me personally. It is an era, a time and space, and several seasons. It is a mark engraved deep in a person's soul and a scar that cannot be healed.
The moment I wrote it down, my desire was awakened again, and the boundaries of time and space were broken when they met again. Sometimes they walked side by side, and sometimes they crossed together...
Intention: The imprint in everyone's heart needs to be healed again and again. If parallel time and space exist, I hope that I will have a happy ending in another time and space. When my real life becomes more and more boring, my fictional life becomes farther and farther away from me.