I Write To Save Someone's Life, Probably

The Mystery Of Human Destiny Is That We Are Fated, But That We Have The Freedom To Fulfill Or Not Fulfill Our Fate: Realization Of Our Fated Destiny Depends On Us. While Inhuman Beings Like The Cockroach Realize The Entire Cycle Without Going Astray Because They Make No Choices.

I Just Know That I Don't Want Cheating. I Refuse. I Deepened Myself But I Don't Believe In Myself Because My Thought Is Invented.

And I Want To Be Held Down. I Don't Know What To Do With The Horrifying Freedom That Can Destroy Me.

I, Who Called Love My Hope For Love.

Things Were Somehow So Good That They Were In Danger Of Becoming Very Bad Because What Is Fully Mature Is Very Close To Rotting