In the autumn of 2010, Nanjing became even colder.
Day after day, I walk on the edge of emotions, calm on the surface, but hysterical on the inside.
Nagging often. Often aphasic. Occasionally when I look in the mirror in a daze, I can't see myself clearly.
Read some books, watch some movies, and write some words in the dead of night.
In this way, I exile myself from the world every night and gain a moment of peace.
The so-called years are nothing more than that.
Conception: