Sometimes I feel ashamed, not because of what I have written through you, but because of the things I do not write, the things I should have written.
You know, if I cannot breathe, you will be silent.
There are many who want you and me to be silent.
I’m ashamed, but one day I will write it all down, we have a lot of work to do together.
Sometimes the walls move to my side, my room becomes smaller than the grave. My lungs get smaller and smaller, I hear the cracking sound of my chest, the arteries of my brain rupture one by one.
My hands are numb, my fingers can’t hold, but I can bear it.
I feel the razor of censorship on your throat and my throat.
Be patient.. These hard days are coming to an end.
Neither you nor I are for sale.
The truth can not be bought with any money, I undertake to write only the truth with you.
Neither you nor I will fail
Sometimes we have to be silent, but this is temporary, we start again, like a tired warrior in an unequal battle, we just rest a little and return to the battle.