So I don't know. Even when you talked about the innocence of her talk, I'm even creating an imagery. I want to know what she's like.
Do you mind giving me her number? I don't think I'm going to tell her to stop loving you. I might even make her love you more. So do you mind giving me her number so that I can also experience the innocence of her talk? You know, I think I got it.
That's what I need to know. Yes. I'm grateful.
Idea. Idea. You gave me my whole idea.
Number. Number. Number.
Number. Number. Number.
Okay. That's a... That's a... Is that... Is this phone? Why are you opening and echoing? What's happening? Do... Your mic is echoing. I don't know.
I don't know. I think he... Can you hear me now? Yes, I think one, two, or more people are speaking. That's why it echoed.
Okay. Okay. Okay.
This kind of phone, you know, you can't write. I don't think I'm in the... you can't write this kind of poem without, by your imagination. You have to know a person, you have to see his soul, his face, his eyes or her eyes, and in every detail, and you have to grasp those moments, those emotions, so that's the way, how you can write this poem.
I found out, I found out we're eating love. The world is not yours, the world is not yours, Dad.
Teacher, while all this is true, I'm disappointed in you. Please, don't be disappointed in me. Your husband is lying.
He's lying. He's lying. Hey, I'm Teacher Y, eating his God.
They don't catch you now. I know it. Eating his entity.
Oh, Lord. I don't understand. I'm not understanding this love language that you guys are using here.
I know. And what does morning light even do? You know, I don't know, but you can tell me. Yeah.
