By collecting lost wings and leathers little by little, which had been dumped by someone and became valueless, I always hope to find my own wing, but repetitively wear and take off those numerous wings for the people’s sake.
To conceal my hopeless injured figure, which had been caused by other people’s words and behavior, I wear someone else’s, not my own wing for myself. In this progress, I forget which kind of wing I wanted.
Among those fascinating wings, my true figure becomes more and more vague. In spite of that, I cannot abandon them, being too afraid that I become nothing more like a valueless person if I don’t wear those wings.
Today, again, I am moving forward to look for another wing.