The dullness of reality and the unreachable ideals are intertwined. An uncertain sadness lurks in Taeko's heart, and the memories of childhood are swayed in the distance: the terrible pineapple I ate for the first time, the baby that my mother didn't promise to buy, and it fell from the sky. Sure enough, the talent of dying early, suddenly being praised by the Japanese silent father, the arithmetic problem that can never be figured out and the IQ that is doubted, the good night every day, being liked by excellent boys, the shame of menarche, the guilt of strange children Responsibility... Under the big question mark of "who am I", there are countless such little secrets that I can't let go. After many years of ups and downs, I finally walked in the direction that the voice in my heart had long pointed out, and I completed the reconciliation with myself.
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