How should I put it, this was the first time in high school that during my favorite summer, which spanned several years, I drank tea like crazy every night and tried my best to write things down one by one with pencil, but I couldn't bear to throw them away. Maybe it's plain, twisted, stiff, and old, but it's the summer I want to remember the most. Moreover, the ending, along with the typed composition paper, was lost for a long time. It wasn't until I remembered to pick it up that I realized that it was indeed missing. It may seem a bit shameful now, but I wanted to see them in a positive story. Because when you look back, they are still there, but you left on your own, leaving them and the memories of staying with them behind.
As a memory of my addiction to scar literature, it also reminds me that I can no longer find the person who wrote these words, and I will never be able to write such delicate words again.
Concept: It is the way youth is ignorant and full of pain and growing without roots. It is so plain that it makes people spurn, stubborn but naive and confident. When you look back when you grow up, you will be grateful for this kind of plainness. If youth had serious injuries, I would probably look different now.