This is the Young, isn’t it?
All the being ever accompanied us gradually passed by and passed by, and we were numb more with the heart. Seems…[the life is like a room], 村上春 said, at the same time, I can’t bear the blue insight about he also became a part of my dead young.
To be or not to be？
To love or not to love？
To do or not to do？
To die or not to die？
This is the Young, isn’t it?
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