Crimson Sea

At the end of September 2023, I was trapped in the step-by-step gear of my senior year in high school, and even my breathing carried the countdown to the college entrance examination. Coinciding with the school anniversary and sports day, the class remade the May Fourth Movement and I played the role of a student leader. On Thursday afternoon, the head teacher gave me a half-day leave to rent costumes in the East District. The moment I walked out of school, standing in front of the surging crowd at the subway station, a strange sense of alienation hit me: the classmates were still fighting in the sea of ​​questions, but I briefly jumped off the established track. This half-day "escape" was not a rebellion, but a necessary change of breath. When I no longer force myself to chase every second, time becomes tangible and tangible - it turns out that only by allowing myself to pause and temporarily reconcile with the tight strings can I truly touch the flowing life instead of being carried forward by it.