I live in a pure white eggshell, surrounded by white mist, leisurely and at ease. Occasionally I look at the transmission and see the glimmer of light, and say to myself: "The weather is not bad today." I am like a little bird that has not yet been born.
Why do I peck at the eggshell so hard? Why am I thinking about crawling out of my shell? What happened to me at that time?
First I met him.
Concept: The ups and downs of heart in love