Those memories of youth are like opening a bottle of Coke that is shaking and swollen. The bubbles rush out in a desperate manner and cannot be stopped, but the pleasure of that moment will make people's nerves extremely excited. Time may leave an indelible mark on our faces, our bodies are aging day by day, and death will be waiting for us on that section of the bridge. However, that memory, the memory of youth, will be engraved on the most glorious page as we go through reincarnation of life.
Some people say that after the age of 25, women begin to decline and officially join the ranks of yellow-faced women. It is only after the age of 30 that a man begins to mature and become a real man. When a woman hears this, she will stamp her feet and say, "I am an old woman." Men will be very depressed after hearing this, and say, "I don't want to mature so late."
There is no doubt that, whether a woman is 25 or a man is 30, we have all gone through our own path of youth. Stepping on the green grass and covered with sunshine, we are flying on the carpet of youth. The innocent laughter and tears are all leaving our own mark on youth. Looking back at the different shades of footprints we stepped on, we smiled at each other: That is the best proof of our youth.
Ivory tower life is. . . Gorgeous? Comfortable? Worry-free? Colorful? Romantic? Wandering? Struggle? Have no choice? Brave? Choose? Metamorphosis?
Please remember, bite the tail of youth, nostalgia and glory.