I have always had an impulse in my heart to make the stories I imagined public in the form of words, but I am afraid that my writing skills are limited, so I waste my time and delay the leisure of others.

After several entanglements and hesitations, he finally gritted his teeth, sat down on the side of the keyboard with peace of mind, and started the life of another me in the story among the one hundred and eight keys.

The world of online literature is like a boundless river and sea, as long as you have courage, as long as you have strength, as long as you have perseverance, you can decide where you want to swim.

But between this cold or warm gap, a trace of emotion secretly breeds, overflowing day by day, and there is a sense of unhappiness and unhappiness.

In my opinion, writing essays is like raising children, in my own eyes it is so perfect and lovely, and occasionally some flaws are like freckles on the immature face, harmless and secretly cute, but in the eyes of others, maybe the perfect child in your eyes may be useless, and those freckles are even more intolerable, as if they are cumbersome to look at more.

However, what I want to say is that since it has begun, it is necessary to give him a proper ending, not to be glorious, but to have a clear conscience.

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