这是一切开始的地方，是设计师用自己的文字在表达一切。
这是一个值得纪念的时刻。
在不长不短的人生进程中，我们总会有很多方式记录自己的心情。
小时候的日记本，长大后才知道蒋先生日记本的梗。
（一句"正常人谁写日记啊"，让我对这种记录有了莫名的羞耻感）
再成长就是校内网，我总是会忍不住稍稍写一些青春疼痛的小文字来验证自己经历过。
再后来的博客、微博、朋友圈、抖音，让记录具有了分享性质，我们的心情不再是仅为自己所知，我们恨不得全世界都知道我们的不开心。
我也曾分享过，但不多。
尤其是长大后，中国的"心事勿让人知"教育理念，让成年人的分享更蒙上了一层尴尬。
所以，那种分享的冲动，总是点到为止，浅尝辄止，戛然而止，最后战略性失踪。
我觉得这是有可能为什么我们这群90后会时不时地突然情绪崩溃，气球一直在打气，你也不能怪它突然爆炸。
这是物理。这是必然事件。
但是今天很不一样，
我开始建立自己的网站了，虽然一切都还是那么简单。
起初，只是想把自己的作品集电子化，一遍遍回顾我过去的工作。
渐渐地感觉到了乏味。
后面愈发地，不知道怎么地，我觉得我可以偷偷建立一个空间。
一个属于我自己的空间。
在这里，我可以把我的冲动写下来，吐出来，笑出来，哭出来。
我无心让他人看到我的这些心情，
但如果你看到了这篇文章，那是你不小心偷偷闯进了我的花园。
幸运的你，我这个花园，不收门票。
我总是喜欢这种一两句一行地写文章，也说不清为什么。
看起来更像是诗歌（不许嘲笑我），
可能我也曾经梦想成为一个诗人吧。
This is where it all begins—the designer, using their own words, putting it all out there.
This is a moment worth remembering.
This is a moment worth remembering. Throughout our not-too-long, not-too-short lives, we always have many ways to record our feelings.
When I was a kid, it was a physical diary. It wasn't until I grew up that I got the joke about Chiang Kai-shek’s diaries.
(You know the one: "Who in their right mind writes a diary?" It actually gave me this weird sense of shame about documenting my life.)
Then came Xiaonei (our version of Facebook). Back then, I couldn’t help but post those cringey, "emo" teen thoughts just to prove I was actually living through something.
Later on, with blogs, Weibo, WeChat, and TikTok, "documenting" turned into "sharing." Our feelings weren't just for us anymore; it felt like we wanted the whole world to witness our unhappiness.
I've shared too, but not much.
Especially as an adult—that traditional Chinese upbringing of "keep your business to yourself" makes sharing feel a bit awkward for grown-ups.
So, that urge to share usually hits a wall. It’s a hint, a tiny taste, a sudden stop, and then—a strategic disappearance.
I think that might be why us 90s kids have these random emotional meltdowns. If you keep pumping air into a balloon, you can’t really blame it when it finally pops.
It's physics. It's inevitable.
But today is different.
I’ve started building my own website. It’s still pretty basic, but it’s mine.
At first, I just wanted to digitize my portfolio and look back at my past work.
Then, somehow, the idea clicked: I could create a secret space.
A space that belongs to me.
In this corner, I can write down my impulses, vent them out, laugh about them, or cry through them.
I don't intend for others to see these feelings,
but if you're reading this article, you've accidentally snuck into my garden.
Lucky you, admission is free.
I’ve always liked writing like this—just a line or two at a time. I can't really explain why.
It looks a bit like poetry (don't laugh).
Maybe, once upon a time, I dreamed of being a poet, too.
