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No need to say a thing—just being there is enough.
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Girls’ friendships are simple—just get together and there are always little secrets to share.
Light a single lamp, and awaken the entire expanse of starlight.
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Let time be time, let the past be the past, and let beginnings begin.
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That red flower on the boots—just looking at it fills my heart with the warmth of the New Year.
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The rooftop holds so many secrets, including that unspoken expanse of blue sky.
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A porcelain bowl brimming with springtime charm, mustard fragrance swirling around silver threads.
The nightlight flickers, illuminating the people in the room.
Clumsy decorations bring her an unexpected smile.
A key can open a new door, but it can’t open the drawer we share.
Paper cranes spin gently, like childhood whispers left unfinished.
When you stand in the place of your childhood and look toward the future
How much optimism should you show to truly feel happy?
Childhood dreams in the tent, lost to a deep sleep for half the day.
Those who have seen the world long for home the most.
No matter how big the house is, it can’t compare to the comforting aroma from Grandma’s stove.
Taste never lies—the rich, eggy aroma is the deepest longing in the dead of night.
The spring breeze treads the field ridges, laughter scatters through childhood.
How old do I have to dress up as to recognize my childhood friend?
Childhood is like the cicadas’ chirping at the end of summer—before you know it, it’s already gone.
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