I don't know how to describe that year. All I can remember is that the sun was very good that year, the wind came slowly, and the sunset was beautiful and romantic. But the sun made me feel blinding, but there was a girl who couldn't finish her diary. The cicadas were chirping very loudly. I looked up and looked out the window at the rustling wind. I recalled that when I was a teenager, I wore school uniforms and whispered in the classroom. It was Chinese class again. Now that I think about it, I am still young.
Intention: youth