Brain 43℃

For four years. Watching the sun rise and set every day, and work like cold robot. I often ask myself, what is the purpose of alive? For the rice in my bowl? For my parents? Or just for alive? hesitation, confusion, failure. Now, DREAM is only a dream. I run by the river, I run in the mount forest, I sit in a Buddhist temple in the suburbs. Most of my memories are: summer's watermelon, autumn's corn. In the middle of the night, I have insomnia,. And I dont know why, I feel relieved. I looked at the shrimp in the fish tank, and then I looked at the game that can't be called a 'game'. "Do something!" Add something new and whatever, to make it look like a game. Finally, thank you to those who have bought this, and wish everyone can have a better life. Maybe three years later, I'll rewrite the story again?