My life’s story starts with a blank page.
I start to make a tiny dot, black dot…
Then, I start to write a word.
I continue to write sentence.
Then sentences turn into paragraphs.
Time has gone so fast...
Sometimes I stop and read the previous
pages.
They are very colorful, very beautiful and
attractive.
Sometimes I use black, red, pink, and blue
ink.
Then this feeling comes…
I want to erase the black, red, and blue
ink.
I want to change them into pink, only pink.
And sometimes I want to rewrite the
previous stories with better stories.
Then I realize…
My story would be really boring, it’s not
colorful.
And the ending might not be beautiful if I
rewrite it.
Instead of change them into pink,
I want to add other colors…
Yellow, green, and purple…
Instead of rewrite the previous stories,
I want to keep writing new stories on the
next pages.
I will write until I can’t move my hand.