The lost youth I heard a saying. Love is right, it is love. Love is wrong, it is youth. If we are destined, then I hope we will be indifferent in the end. Shooting stars streak under the stars... But they are also memories. The two subjects of arts and science are not unrelated. If that is the case, why did I cross this boundary in the first place? I wish you and I were strangers, but I seem to have forgotten that you... Said you still love me. If this memory is not a knife, what is it? Illusion? Or a dream that numbs oneself