I had been looking around my old folders just now… All thanks to a friend and her mentioning of my drawings from years ago that she said she was looking at now, so I urged to look at them myself. Though I felt so embarrassed when she said that, I find my old creations something unbelievable to me now for several reasons. I want to thank her though, for praising it still, and saying that she likes them either way. But to those recalls, I laughed at the encounters of my old speech as well. I used to sound so “Asian” and plain childish back then, in terms of spelling, grammar, and young immaturity (Yes, admittedly). Over the years I realized just how my English improved, which is quite an interesting fact to me, especially now that I recall actually making people think that English was my first language.
Setting those thoughts aside, I mainly collected those junk art and put them away together with my old, original stories that I wrote. But, in a more recent set of materials. I still have my ancient shit of the oldest forms of stories and of course the very early drawings. The stories amuse me more than they should, even though reading them now makes me laugh instead of flowing together with the certain story. I am proud of several of them, because of the main result caught me in my own mind stream and felt as if I was reading a novel I had never read before. I suppose that’s really quite another interesting fact.
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