I can't forget that on a certain day, the day after my birthday, I was no longer a little girl.

It was also the beginning of that year that I was twelve-year-old and set off on my dream.

It's amazing that everything before has been gradually diluted, dissolved, and vanished by the new years. All the people and things, now that I think about it, are vague. It was as if the number twelve had divided me into two halves, completely different, half floating, half sinking.

On the night of winter, I no longer make noise because of my stomach to eat this, I want to eat that, and if I can't eat, I will raise my mouth and be angry. became, waited quietly, then quietly locked the door, got into the quilt, quietly turned on an old radio, and listened quietly with both ears, a gentle and powerful voice that told the story of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger. At that time, I had already put myself into the story without reservation, and I felt the rustling of the leaves in the wind, which happened to me, and I saw Ee, who always had a sad face, pacing back and forth thoughtfully on the green grass, and heard Debbie calling Pooh's name, and bumped into Piggy and Tigger discussing together......

On the night of the short winter vacation, I fell asleep peacefully with the memories of the sound.

From then on, the door of the room was no longer wide open, and I liked it, and I locked it in the room alone, reading novels, comics, drawing, and dreaming......

Some people will think that most of the diaries are records of the events of adolescence, also known as the Huaichun diary. However, for me, who doesn't know why love, it's just to write down my changing emotions!

In 2010, I wrote the first diary of my life, but it was only because I was unwilling, I failed the final exam of the sixth grade, and I was not able to let my favorite math teacher praise me.

The locked diary, which undoubtedly became a treasure and a secret, stood in the boxy room, looked around carefully, and then hid the cartoon diary in the compartment under the bed. So, whenever I write a diary, the only thing I have to do is to get under the bed and move it out.

Sometimes, when I look through the diary I wrote before, I will suddenly laugh out loud, and then I will still be stunned. What was not clearly distinguished then is still today.

There is a passage in the diary that reads:

A week ago, I told my dad to help me take the puppet off the roof, but he told me yesterday that there was nothing on it, and told me not to lie! Today I was standing by the window of the stairs and I saw a brown bear lying on the roof of the kitchen, and I was not lying!

After several days, it was written:

Hey? The bear on the roof was gone, and after a closer look, it was really gone, and I didn't tell my dad about it, I just felt so sad.

Whether the brown bear on the roof really existed, I still haven't figured out. It felt like it really existed, fluffy, with big black eyes, and it felt like I had imagined a lone bear on the roof because I was desperate for a doll. However, once it was convinced.

More than once, I thought I was holding a long bamboo pole with a net over it. I was in the mountains, running around, trying to catch flocks of beautiful birds in the sky, and it really happened. Say it, you can think of it with your toes, how is it possible! And I don't want to think of it as a dream.

Such unreal things happen frequently, so that I have never been able to immediately distinguish between reality and dreams and artistic conceptions. Because, in the depths of my heart, they are all happy and true beings. Reluctant to bite off on their falsehood.

Now, because of myopia, the "things" I see are easily dressed in fantasy, think about it, see things that are too real and sad, it is better to sprinkle some colorful sequins, let yourself know that the world is beautiful, it is good to be alive! I don't think it's self-deception, but comfort, no one wants to live in a world that is gradually covered with gray, the color is often added by oneself, and what color is in the heart, what is seen is what color.

It's also the color of dreams.

The little girl becomes a big girl, the dream changes, but it will not diminish, it will continue to grow, until my life, drawn a dot.