I am not willing to live an ordinary life, doing nothing all day long, and I do not want to be reduced to a slave bound by life, and live in a dark corner forever. These are the last things I want to see. But fate always plays tricks on people, and I eventually became the kind of person I hate the most. I always miss my youth, those things that are regretful, unfinished, and ready to move. Seven years later, I am moving step by step in the direction I hate. New people and old people appear at the same time. I am obviously discouraged, but why do I still feel shocked when talking about it at the beginning? In fact, all I want is the sincere and impulsive feeling from back then.