In fact, I have a lot to say, maybe it's just daily things, maybe it has nothing to do with romance, maybe it's about astronomy and geography, maybe weird stories about the world, but when I think that the other person is not you, all these words are stuck in my throat, which is really sad.
It's loud and arrogant, young and frivolous. Writing is a commemoration, a banquet, a coda, the Mount Olympus in a dream, not to please anyone.
The quicksand years from a weird and stupid kid to an all-conquering queen.
Have you ever tried to trap yourself? It feels like wrapping yourself in plastic wrap. You can't get out and impurities can't get in. Just like our youth.
We are all the protagonists who are clinging to the city, and we are also the unhappy sidekicks, the losers of the screenwriter. The stories of this world are not controlled by us. The story of our small town, in fact, was not spectacular, it happened in a gorgeous manner.
The tail of youth has slipped away, and the partners who were once companions have left and matured. It is better not to see each other again than to meet again after a long separation.
Liang Yuchen, how are you?
Say goodbye to your youth for me.