Youth is like a dream, and it has been exhausted in a trance, like a red candle burning beside the incense table. She sheds tears but hopes for light. Who knows that when the red candle burns out, the light will also come to an end.
Youth is so beautiful, but also sad, like the flowers in the world, scattered under the trees on the branches, the breeze gradually picks up, and they are drifted away from the direction.
The rebellious era left behind only painful and heartless tears. Ignorance, regret, confusion, and bewilderment occupy the hearts of youth, and the stabbed emotions are like the wounds left by hatchets, expressing their vicissitudes in the open spaces.
I think that I shouldn't be so sad. In fact, I am an optimistic and cheerful woman, but I don't know when my heart is easily hurt. Every drop of tears hides a story of mine, and my heart is buried in the windy and sandy world.
Emotion is originally a very beautiful thing, but unexpectedly, that naivety has already exhausted all my efforts. Standing at the foggy crossroads ahead, should I continue to move forward, or stop here?
The expected campus life also comes to an end at the end of youth. The burdens of life are piling up little by little. I really want to escape and find a paradise in the book, let go of the shackles in my heart and let the dreams in my heart fly.
It's just that youth has passed, and there is no time to be rebellious, no time to be unrestrained, and no time to be irresponsible. Youth is gone, we are mature and sensible, and we can carry the life of our parents on our shoulders.
It's just that it's too late to hold a funeral for my youth. In two years' time, I will also step into the ranks of people standing in their thirties. You can imagine the hesitation in my heart. How should I pay tribute to the youth that has passed away?
I remember that year, I entered the time of youth full of vision. At the age of thirteen or fourteen, I was full of imagination about the future, but I found that reality was a nightmare that entangled me. My eyes began to lose sight of anything I wanted to see. As soon as I opened my eyes, I could feel the earth-shattering headache just before my eyes. I thought I was suffering from a one-in-a-million pituitary tumor, and the heavy burden on my family made my mother shed tears all day long. I couldn't bear to drag down the burden-bearing family. I was willing to die and leave the world with my last smile. The sky does not leave my footprints, but I have flown to comfort myself and face death calmly.
During that time, I was very rebellious. I had always been well-behaved and sensible, pretending not to know anything and not caring about anything. Faced with rumors, I shed all my tears in the night sky every night. Say to the stars, I want to leave, leave this world, I don't want to see the tears of the world, including myself.
At the age of 16, I was forced to leave my hometown and wander alone, but I never wanted anyone to accompany me, because even if I was alone, I could face the ups and downs of life, so why did I need anyone's company? I just want someone, but he can no longer be by my side. A person has been waiting for nearly ten years as Qing He, and finally waited for a man who could take his place. Leng Buding was hit hard by his mother, and was led by memory in a circle. It turned out that he had lost his memory since he couldn't see it. How many times in the dream, I watched his back leave, and woke up crying from the dream. I just don't know why the dream made my chest so heavy in reality, as if being pressed by a huge stone. As long as I gasped, I would shed tears in pain.
Perhaps I am not strong enough to be so generous with my tears, but no one knows that every tear is a drop of blood in my heart.
I also remember that year, my finger was accidentally cut by thatch, and a drop of bright red blood flowed. Watching it slowly disappear in the soil, I was a little obsessed with this scene. Because pain is nothing to me, but heartbreak is something I cannot accept. But it was also at that time that my heart was corroded bit by bit.
Youth, no matter how many memories it has, is at a loss. Let the rain in early spring irrigate it and hold a silent funeral for it. I hope that youth will pass by and bear fruits of hope, comforting the once injured youth.
