臺文與自己。

屠夫。

it’s exactly these little things that keep building up, building up, and building up until it cannot take it anymore and crumbles, crumbles, and crumbles . . . smashes into pieces.

這世界上僅存兩位真正的好人，想必是她和她，血緣相連——我無緣的良善。

說不出口的事情一件比一件更疼痛

狗必定能辨識出誰是好人，畢竟他們永遠對我母親如此和善、如此不忍離開她身邊

I couldn’t stop myself from comparing to them. They represent the thing I don’t have--I will never have. I was suffocating in their poshness . . . my pain was never understood or realized by them. That’s exactly why we cannot be together. We weren’t speaking the same language. Not even close.

This name was mine before anything else.