A hotel room in Rome. In front of me, a young lady is standing. When I look into her eyes, I can see the darkest midnight sky, and the waves of her hair are like the champagne in the glass she is holding in her hand.

For me, it's very strange to see familiar people who don't recognize me. I feel like I am in a different dimension where my personality has never existed, and the people there used to know someone who looked like me. When I asked them, "Do you recognize me?" they replied, "Well, your face looks familiar."

I'm afraid of loneliness and people.

I'll never bother you again. I promise.

Underneath the bridge, I am standing, crying, and writing a message to beg for your forgiveness.

Running nose. Headache. I like my condition. Now I don't care who you are flirting with.