For those who don't know anything about me, I just want clothes. I love buying my clothes. Just give me one set of clothes, and I won't forget it for the rest of my life. I'm okay with working like a dog from night till morning as long as I have new clothes. When the snow falls, I want to have my earbuds in, wearing a nice set of clothes with my own taste, without worrying about how much it costs. It's painful for someone to love something and not be able to get it, watching others have it while I yearn for just one set of clothes. Later they say, "You're young," but what does that have to do with it? I'm not a robot; can't I buy a nice set of clothes that reflects my taste?

I hate that our memories consist of nothing but arguments. How much I wish to be with someone like you. I cursed at you; I wish I hadn’t. A few years have passed, and I wanted to test things out, but I found that I don’t know anyone else and I can’t stay with them. I become foolish. I can’t be serious. It’s always the same; the good ones go unnoticed, and when they’re lost, people regret it. They leave twice, and we forgive again, just to translate a bit of good life once more.

What if people like me had a good life? It's very hard; a person can be nothing.