What is youth? Is the sun just right and the breeze not dry? Or is it the lingering sound of a hoarse voice?
Youth is probably nothing, just young and young.
It's just a little story. After experiencing it, it slowly sinks into the bottom of the lake of memory. One day, I accidentally picked it up and found that it had lost its original beauty.
But who needs to care so much? Happiness is real, sadness is also real, that's enough.
Intention: Life is not a poem of God, but the laughter and tears of mortals