Children in 1991 are telling stories

I always do this, piece together some unwarranted images to write a piece of hypocritical feelings.

For example, a gorgeous and defeated castle, twin flowers, white birds, a broken dream or a lonely child with a little inferiority...

They all said that there are many shadows in these objects. Ok, I don't deny that if they like it, everything is good. I just have nothing to say or write with unclear utilitarianism, build the lives of others, and then write these illusory stories into my dreams, just like I have experienced.

I think I am indeed a good teller, giving them a series of fairy tales, it is also true. And "they" are a group of innocent children who are willing to be deceived by me. I am happy to cry in my story, and then shed tears to tell me that they have found some comfort or relief from the protagonist. I just want to ask for a humble satisfaction. We hit it off and we needed it.

I think I can only fool them. Or, they have not lost anything.