๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ™โค๏ธ



ๆฏใŒๆœฌๆฃšใฎๅฅฅใซไป•่ˆžใ„่พผใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ‚ใŸใ—ใฎๅฐๅญฆ1ๅนด็”Ÿใฎๆ™‚ใฎ็ตตๆ—ฅ่จ˜ใ€‚

ใ‚ใŸใ—9ๆญณใพใงๅ…จใ่จ˜ๆ†ถใŒใชใ„ใฎใงใ™ใŒใ€ใกใ‚ƒใ‚“ใจ็”Ÿใใฆใ„ใŸใฟใŸใ„ใงใ™ใ€‚


 My mother had put it away in the back of a bookshelf. My picture diary from the first grade of elementary school.

I don't remember anything until I was 9 years old, but it seems I was alive.








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