A ephemera that lives and dies.
One in eight billion of us.
Although it is so small and fragile, it still bursts out with a persistent sound. This busy sound runs through the sensitive and restless youth.
It wasn't until I was stung by the echo many years later that I suddenly realized that the sound of the rain, the chirping of cicadas, the sound of my heartbeat, and even the choking were all rumbling in my ears.
"You" are the nameless carrier of my youthful fantasy, the fleeting bright color in the long numbness, and the evidence of my confrontation with this fleeting short life.
Mission: May everyone's wishes come true