Passing by, passing by, missing, so we thought we had grown up. Finally, you can also smile in tears or pain or disappointment. In the early morning of the ebb and flow of the tide, I held myself high in the deep blue sea, so I didn't miss it. I still remember everything, but I didn't swear to forget it. All those happy and sad pasts, when I think of them, are irresistible. When playing the guitar, make public the convulsive body, and when talking on the phone, hold high the gentle voice. Everything is so clear. These two people are always missing. Even if the long youth is over, it is still memorable. Two people holding hands in the bleak time, two people walking together in the back, two words can hide the panic, two years later can forget the place. It's just that no matter how fresh the memory is, youth still flies away with white wings, and it won't care what we pray for. Time runs counter to it, and we can only catch the fragments of the past, with lonely aftertaste in the morning when spring flowers are in full bloom, in the afternoon when summer rains roar, in the evening when autumn wind whimpers, and in the middle of the night when winter snow floats. There are many people who write about youth in novels, and there are also many people who praise youth. The youth experienced by children in this era is always impermanent, mixed with naked sadness wrapped in the soul, engraved in the years. Diaries of boyhood, photos taken, gardenias in high school campus, playgrounds for walking together, fast food restaurants that have eaten countless lunches ... these trivial and exquisite details are smeared with our years of crying, laughing and singing. They are the symbols of our youth, recording the growth track painfully and soberly. Flowers, fallen leaves, raindrops, breeze. Love, luxury, entanglement, depression. There are always some things that can't escape, and youth is so long and reciprocating in the purest age of life.
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