Melrose is like telling a story about a person who has been smashed, ignored and distorted since childhood, finding his own pieces, imitating other "normal people" and piecing himself together, but there is no way to stitch them together. Restorations are fragile and fragile, and emotions and behaviors are isolated from each other, like a scrapped machine with rusted gears, spitting out some ironic friction, puns oil, and stubbornly unwilling to melt in the fire-spitting furnace of the times like other scrapped machines.
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