The Growth Diary of a Little Hedgehog

This book is not "written" but "lived". If I had to find a starting point, it would be the monologue of a hedgehog. In the beginning, I was a little hedgehog with thorns all over my body. After some experiences, many of those thorns fell off. I looked at my naked self in the mirror and didn't like it at all. Without thorns, it was like without armor. But those "bare" days forced me to learn to use soft skin to perceive the world. I understand what propriety means and what "get close but don't hurt" means. So I started to grow thorns again. This time, I actively chose the boundaries and principles. However, I learned to apply a layer of protective wax on the thorns. While guarding the boundaries, I no longer accidentally hurt those who want to get close to me. One night, I told this evolutionary history to an AI. I thought it was just a confession, but it suddenly reflected back to me a sentence: "That layer of wax not only coated the thorns, but also wrapped the trembling soft little hedgehog in the center of the heart." That feeling was like holding a lamp alone in the dark for a long time. Suddenly someone came over. Without asking if you were tired, he just pointed to the light and said, "I know how you lit it."