I can feel that my mind is underdeveloped, and my bottom line is not mature. I often agree with whatever others say—yes, yes, okay, okay. That's why I also struggle with writing argumentative essays; I think everything is fine, and then my left and right brains fight each other. One second I hate my mom to death, and the next second I realize she's not easy either. One second I refuse to be a dog, refuse to be looked down upon, refuse to be ignored, just a toy; the next second I bark, "Woof woof," willing to be a dead owner.