One:

Today, I was studying the human body in the biology class of the International Division, and I was distracted and recalled my childhood.

I remembered an incident when I was in the first grade of elementary school.

When I was young, I was fascinated by body painting for a while, and I brought picture books with me, where I learned to draw nude portraits of people.

After I finished drawing, I put it away, and the paper seemed to have been blown by the wind somewhere in the classroom, and the teacher picked it up.

The teacher asked several classmates and learned that I had drawn it, so he gave me the definition of a hooligan in front of the whole class, and then asked me to go out and stand for punishment.

I seemed to be crying so sadly that day, and even the teacher scared me and said that I wanted to invite my parents.

I still don't understand why painting human body paintings is so serious, so why are the master authors who painted these paintings not killed?

With this curiosity and faint fear of [obscene] affairs, and inherited the title of "Little Rascal" for ten years.

As a result, I was able to become the author of this article (laugh O(∩_∩)O~) instead of a painter.

There are two impressions:

One is that some adults are really scum, imposing their own filthy thoughts on children who have not been in the world, and forcibly raping his personality in public to define his existence.

Second, why do some things have to be defined as "yellow"? What exactly is "yellow"? I think the case of the past is not the same as something today, so consider the connotation for yourself (b==)

Two:

Today I was anonymously confessed by a certain girl on QQ (fortunately she didn't know about my part-time job, Khan), and then I remembered my childhood memories about confession.

Unlike the male protagonist in the middle, in reality, I didn't see the miserable experience of the person I liked in the crack of the door, but I have always liked the virtual character of Hatsune Miku since elementary school

However, although I personally have no chance with the FLAG who confesses unrequited love, there is one thing that I will never forget.

At that time, I had a classmate (not a big friend) and we lived very close to each other.

When I was in the fifth grade of elementary school, this guy had a girl he liked, so I made a bet with him and asked him to play scissors under the tree in the community, and whoever lost told the girl he liked.

I originally thought that if I lost, I would just say something about school flowers and not reduce my aesthetic confusion.

But I still won in the end.

The guy made good on his promise and told me the name of one of the girls he liked.

And I'm a scumbag who agreed not to tell anyone else, and accidentally told my good friend, and my good friend told someone else.

The classmates began to gather to laugh at them, and as soon as the two spoke, they complained about their relationship and so on.

I'll just say the results:

After graduating from elementary school, they didn't make it, and the relationship was still like that.

Now, I heard that the boy who was "betrayed" by me was by someone (maybe the first love hurt too deeply), and the girl he liked back then seemed to have become a black fungus. (Maybe it's because of an inexplicable scandal in elementary school)

Anyway, I'm guilty right now.

Feel sorry for them.

Alas.