I've always loved making up stories since I was a kid, and most of them just fell apart in the wind. Although all the stories are not very interesting, at least they are my own stories.
It's hard for me to talk about what I write, and my mind often wanders.
If I were to introduce it, I would say that this is the first paragraph of a story about a boy and a girl. They have such a story, but they inevitably get separated in the end.
There are only some fragments in my mind, and I captured them, but the long story hidden behind the fragments is beyond my ability to tell.
The wheels of time are rolling, and new stories are emerging one after another. My stories are not attractive at all, but I want to make a little noise here and leave behind the longing of my youth.
Intention: I pin my fantasies and hopes on such a story. I try my best to restrain my pure desire and write a pure story.