After reading three more stories, I have many imaginations, which are about another me in another world. And in that world, the time is just always repeat. It is like what my life is. Whatever I do, I can’t be an artist. I am just a boring art student for whole fucking life. It is always a joke and the result will be that I’m a loser, I mean accomplish nothing. A woman from the future finds me and she know that I will be a loser again and again. The pics are just following my self interest. For others, they are just a piece of shit. But I never care. The comments will come into my left ear and fly away from my right ear.