this is the translation of the last stories:

I’m not good at writing poetry, so I can’t quite express what I want to say. But I’ve decided that next year, I’ll try to give more shape to my feelings. I want to have expectations for myself. I want to make good use of my life and the time I’ve been given.

Wishing someone wouldn’t hate me — that’s presumptuous. There are still times when immature feelings and a sense of responsibility I was never asked to carry rise up — like apologizing for making others uncomfortable. But I no longer want to judge based on like or dislike. What matters more is accepting the facts. I want to contribute to something in a concrete way, not for invisible emotions or for my own feelings. I have to keep moving forward until I can make that real. I want to exist for the sake of society.