Berenice Jane

That day, people suddenly remembered the fear of being forgotten and dominated by dreams... I was writing an article on the rooftop, eyes wide open, waving my arms and smashing 108 windows. I drank bottle after bottle of red wine. The wind on the rooftop was really strong. We met at eight o'clock in the evening. I really wanted to write a good suspense. The Louvre says I am a miracle between human degradation and evolution! Is this the loss of human nature or the annihilation of morality? Or the destruction of Tiande? Or is it the reincarnation of heaven? Please tune in to "I Made It Up"