8℃, the best temperature to taste champagne, but now I'm chugging it down. Without feeling sorrow, just wanting to see what it's like to chug, of course, in fact, this is a very extravagant behavior. Three of us chugging together, like drinking ice-cold mineral water. Don't say we don't have taste right now, we simply don't care. Is champagne even alcohol? No, at least not right now. It feels like revelry, as if there has never been any sadness.
I like this temperature, slightly cold, so I can drape myself in my favorite windbreaker. I like this temperature, it gives a sense of spring, skipping and turning alone in the green tree-lined alley, enjoying the sensation of spreading wings in dance. I like this temperature, it gives a sense of autumn, quietly leaning against a long chair by the lake, facing the slightly cool breeze, indulging in the sinking of the sunset. I like this temperature, my intuition tells me there's a sense of melancholy in the air, holding your hand, delivering my warmth straight to your heart.
Finished writing the Lolita manifesto, yet I am lost in memories, sitting for a long time in front of the screen looking at this page, listening to that kind of tune...