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.