In the story of Bubbles, I think there is nothing more than youth like an orange sinking at the bottom of the box.
The country of youth may not always be romantic and sentimental. In fact, the pursuit of blandness is another interpretation of happiness. Happiness in the ordinary is extremely stable, just like the apple in the hand of a child. Whether you eat it or not, it belongs to you.
Walking on the journey of youth, I always miss the lost youth. Those years seem to have the best memories. My own fairy tale-like dreams always shine with light in my memory, attracting me to move forward. As I get closer, I find that the light is getting more and more distant and confused from me. Therefore, memory has become something that can deceive people, deceiving people's eyes and also deceiving the heart full of hope.
At the beginning, I stopped asking for extravagance and was no longer flashy. I started to describe the past in my memory with the pen in my hand. What words urgently need is life, but what describes life is not words. In the age when imagination began, the imaginative fairy tales became the beautiful longings in my heart.
Driven by words, bubbles have also become part of one's soul. At the age of heart palpitations, the trend of first love is always flowing.
It's just that after the tide recedes, when I look back, I only see an even more confusing fog.
Conception: