I still stubbornly believe that I am under twenty years old and still in the blooming age of a nineteen-year-old girl. I have never wanted to accept that I am about to turn 20 and then start running for the third year. It is not a matter of age, but that I still have not determined what I will be like in the future. Even if I have determined it, I cannot confidently control my personality of saying that wind is like rain.
A few days ago, the girl J next to me had been reading a book of chicken soup prose. One day in class, she suddenly turned to me and said that the author is so amazing, and he wrote such a heart-warming story in such an understatement. I had read that prose book a year ago, but I had forgotten the content. I vaguely remembered that I did not feel much emotion when I read it. Maybe it was because I had not experienced many things, so I could not resonate with the author. Suddenly I remembered that I had the experience of recording words, and I wanted to record my current life again so that I could remember it.
PS: Ah~ I am nineteen years old forever! Nineteen years old! Nineteen years old! (People have crazy faces...)