I have the most bizarre memories of my youth.
I would say that the whole life is a game. I chose mentally retarded games like Monopoly and Pretty Girl Bubble Hall for myself to play, and never played fighting games.
The whole impression of that spring made me unable to control myself. I was riding a bicycle on a section of the Third Ring Road that I must pass when I go home. In my schoolbag, I carried a large physics and Chinese review outline, many 0.5 Ballpoint pens with a little fragrance, my lunch box and some melancholy.
I once watched those long-haired boys I liked leave school. Their reserved hobbies, music or other things, some of them showed muscle groups that they had deliberately trained. The cuffs of their torn and dirty T-shirts were rolled up high, revealing their shoulders that were just starting to become strong.
I watched them leave, quietly, like fish swimming in the green and hazy water of the swimming pool.
The flowers bloomed in a strange and colorful way that spring, because I had never looked so intently at those flowers and their faces that bloomed on my way to and from school. I suddenly felt lonely in the spring of my senior year in high school. I left all my favorite ways of playing and started living a humble and boring life. The college entrance examination is like a spell, he said, it is destined to change my destiny. That boy I like.
I looked back out the window, saw some leaves, and a bird flew past, leaving nothing behind.
We will never see each other from now on. I raised my head and thought.
What a shy and humble feeling. Like two flowers blooming on a cliff, they fall in love but never see each other.
