sunshine can rise in second days, flowers can open in second years, wild geese, next year will still come…… The dead, after all, never again, second days of sunshine compared to yesterday, or high or low, but it must be different from yesterday; next year’s flowers, or beautiful or dim, are different from last year; the wild goose that comes back next year, or fast or slow, is also certain to be different from the year. It is not absolute, but on this point, perhaps because of the lack of cognition, which includes no knowledge of nature, the depth of the universe, and so on; and that is why I think it would be more secure to add a relative to this. From the baby to the old ten thousand days, the beginning of the beginning of its own center to the later nature and a sense of the team as the center, the change from the cognitive level of the world to adapt to the self to the reality of constantly changing their thinking and things to adapt to the world; it seems to be lively and powerless; witness this one. Cut is a thing that people do not know whether they really exist – time and time. They silently record our process from white paper to full of color. And once this is written today, no good rubber can be wiped out. But what is the death? Or just a personal history talk, or a point in memory, when in a particular case, the brain and the heart resonate a bit, suddenly giggles, or the sigh of yesterday.