Villainess’s Sweet Everyday

It may be me who matches this world.Potatoes. If this world were a novel, the split sentiment would be a herald of foolishness.Everything was under control from the first sentence, and I feel like I was even piloting it with threads like a puppet play.I don't have time to grieve.I am uncomfortable with the shaking of the bus.During the procedure, which continues seamlessly, the judgment criteria of things become distorted.I don't understand. The view of the city from the window of the car is beyond peace.Lives in mediocrity, not detecting anything that inhibits the world from doing.Doesn't anybody notice?I feel like eating something cute.Should I buy some peanuts?High calories. If you had just the right amenities somewhere, you'd feel better.I wonder if it can continue to exist without being obliterated.