Eighteen Years of Fireworks in the World

[Essay, recording my eighteen years, and even many years to come] When I was eighteen years old, I dreamed that Alice met the little prince; Snow White shook hands with the poisoned apple and made peace; the moon in those days would snow, scattered on the shoulders of snails. It turned out that the butterfly was hiding in the mushroom and the little white rabbit was lost in the forest. It turns out that at the age of eighteen, in addition to the college entrance examination, there are also unwritten poems.