I'm disgusted!

The more intimate the person, the more it can be hurt, or that kind of temper comes to turn his face and don't recognize people. However, this side is almost never the same in front of anyone other than my parents, and I feel very hurt when I change my face when people think I have no temper. In other words, I don't even have a close friend. Or am I being too demanding? Or is my mind too hidden? It's a bottomless well, and I don't want to pursue it anymore.

Whether you talk about it or keep your mouth shut, my character has taken root.

The things I like also poke at my sore spot every time, and it is heartfelt but really uncomfortable.

Once, because of a movie that I liked Miyazaki very much, "Valley of the Wind" was used by my classmates as a tool for New Year's night entertainment and polishing time, because I couldn't stand the feeling of being told so many mouths that it was not at all, I ran out of the classroom and didn't go back. Wearing a thin coat, he sat at the back of the flower bed in the school building, and sat alone for three classes. I started to feel sick the next day, so much so that I went home on sick leave without completing my weekly exams that week.

Compared to yourself, the things you like should never be attached to gossip.

Not long ago, when I went out shopping with my mother, in the huge supermarket, I walked straight without purpose, turned a corner, turned right, until I saw a novel on the shelf, and I was led by the nose without any suspense. I don't know what I did when I got home? If you ask me, why don't I buy it? Because the closer I am, the more my heart can't let go, and it makes me uncomfortable. It's like after watching a movie, the heartstrings pulled by it have been suspended for a long time, and I can't let go, I can only let time help me slowly heal.

The more things that touch the heart, the more uncomfortable they are, stored in the deepest and deepest place in the heart, as long as they meet the eyes, the bell bell ~ the heart, and it begins to sound again. That's why I often hide things, and I often leave quickly when I hear something mentioned; There is not a single Japanese youth novel on the bookcase; Rarely discuss with classmates what they like about each other; Otherwise, I'll be stuck in it and I won't be able to extricate myself.

Sometimes time is too slow, so the diary and self-talk are my best words, and the flowers and plants on the windowsill probably already feel that I am talkative.

I recruited myself, but I still don't want to be hated.