Our youth, our stories.
Our youth was once paranoid and stubborn.
Our youth was once childish and crazy.
Our youth was once thin and clear.
Our youth was once dark and hopeless.
In our youth, the road ahead is cut off and the road behind is hopeless, full of thorns or flowers blooming in spring.
We all have no choice but to go on and never look back.
We have dreams in our hearts, but they are coldly photographed by the sea of reality.
We are full of ambition, but we are stifled by the harsh reality of the world.
Fine. Not giving up is my belief.
Read other people's stories and count your own sorrows.