a man wrote a long series of microblogs over years. then they were put together, categorized and grouped under several titles and published together in a book. i just read about ten pages of the microblogs while eating dinner at the diner. i was not impressed. some look like something he really saw. some look like clippings from tabloid newspapers. some short records can't have been his own experience. just something he had read somewhere and put into his daily microblogs. well, these things borrowed from some other sources certainly filled the pages of his microblogs, but they were not his real experience. he didn't meet these people. he wasn't there when such a report was made. some people or some cities he had never visited. though his microblogs are fun to read, but the stories he condensed and copied from somewhere else hurt the authenticity of the collection. it would be more much better if all the things he committed to the space of his writings at the microblog were his personal experience. the things he did see, the scenes he did encountered, the people he actually met or saw, chatted with, somewhere. when he mixed his own experiences with writings of other people, he can't be sure whether things he copied into his microblogs were true or not. it would be all right if he had fun by copying. but it wouldn't be fun for readers if many of his brief sketches are not his direct experiences.