There was a period of moratorium before jumping out into the world.
I wonder if every person has a time when loneliness is fresh.
I wonder if anyone will read this and respond.
When the gale that burns the body with longing has passed,
The path of the leaves dropped by the wind,
Wearing a bright green sweater on top, wrapped in corduroy pants on the bottom,
I was walking barefoot in sneakers.
I never met anyone in reality.
But there was always someone and I wasn't lonely.
In the mood for Standalian and sent impassioned letters to the future lady.
The long letter imagined a place for just the two of us.
I was fascinated by the fixation of signs through words.
As expected, the reply came and tasted the first insult.
Even great anachronisms have sweet memories.
The irreplaceable days quietly revived, every time they are revived, they become new.
Many poets whose overlap gives birth to unexpected breath
they made me high complicated and raised it to a thought,
The wind of lost innocence is too strong,
It created a hotbed of heartlessness and nihilism.
In the girl's eyes, breath and low voice,
Wouldn't it be okay to put inside of your mind?