There are short and long lives, and the younger you live, it is not a thing to be happy about.
Except for the brief few years of common language moments, you have been gray-haired with your youth, but your lovers have rejuvenated and become children, brothers and sisters? Sister and brother? Mother and son? Outsiders can be said to be a life of curious hunting, and there is so much helplessness in it.
But I still think Daisy is happy, presumably this is the reason why she let her daughter read the diary.
If you were Daisy’s daughter, what would it be like when you discover that the person who left different pens in your mother’s life is the life of a man from old age to baby?
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