Memory, an unforgettable song

There will always be a pause in a song and a breakpoint in a memory. Now my thoughts are flying, wandering at the breakpoint of memory, pulling …… growing up is a very wonderful thing, which makes me learn to protect myself, but it is always scarred; it makes me learn to be strong, but it always makes me feel tired. What is the symbol of maturity? Can you laugh and cry, or cry and say regret? Is it to obliterate the innocence, or give up the seemingly ignorance at first? After a long time, when I recollected all my experiences, I finally realized that a person has a mature way, a person has a continuation of a person’s story, which is unique, and my destiny is E major. I don’t know what others think of me. I just want to live my own life. It is not groundless for me to tell my story so sad. I think my life is dramatic and ridiculous. I can’t control the confusion of my thoughts or my feelings. I always pursue and want to be a quiet person, but every time I end up quickly. I just want to live a simple and quiet life, but I can’t get what I want. Many previous ideas have been grinded by reality and become no longer angular. This is my past, whether I like it or not. Now I have a lot of negative emotions, which seem to be sentimental. In fact, they are euphemistic expressions of my true feelings. Everyone knows this and that truth, but it is just a problem that Xi is not used to changing. I don’t know whether this change is a kind of growth or betrayal to my past. I only know that I am not used to this kind of change. I feel that I am like a river, which originates from the ordinary land. Continuous running is my lifelong pursuit and the meaning of my life. Maybe the scenery on the way is beautiful and gorgeous, full of temptation and excitement. But as a river, I should have my own duty. Running is my endless life. I am a river, ignoring the blue clouds in the sky and the boundless Scenery of birds and flowers on both sides, but just running towards the direction of the sea blindly. I am eager for the courage of the sea and the surging waves, so I give up the joy and satisfaction for a moment, because I know that when facing the sea, the spring will bloom. I long for such flowers and a natural and unrestrained life. So I hope that I am such a river and can work hard for that kind of life. People like to recall, or how can I keep thinking about memories and chatter? Maybe it was in a certain afternoon, the moment when the light and shadow shook my eyes, or at a certain dusk, when the fallen leaves were floating for a moment, the inexplicable throb in my heart was the source of my memory. There is always a trance illusion, which can’t tell whether the people and things in these memories are my stories or others’ stories. Some people leave without returning, and some people leave and never meet again. If I were still in my memory, I could laugh wildly, cry happily, be heartless and enjoy it. If I were still that little boy, I wouldn’t feel that living is also a kind of decadence. In the past, I was unrestrained and presumptuous, and happy made me jealous. Maybe youth and beauty are always fleeting, we should not be too nostalgic, but it is because of the short-lived that it is beautiful, I recall it because of its beauty. Today, I look at the past through the fleeting years, and I never forget the simple smiling face at that time. Looking at the strange face, what I expected was the face in my memory. Looking at the bustling street, I imagined it was the corner of that summer, hiding my mind and secret. Now I am no longer the original me, is it changed by others or my own mind? I once recalled that I, the one who didn’t suffer any harm and persisted in believing in feelings, would raise the corners of my mouth. Thinking of that white shirt and those pure white boys and girls, there will always be a feeling of vicissitudes. How could it be? In just a few years, what has changed is the purity and happiness that can never be possessed again. Time is really terrible, gradually devouring our inherent youth and life like a fire snake. The pain like death is entangled between these losses and gains, wandering in forgetting and memory. If I were still me, I wouldn’t live like this. I wouldn’t let you lose those proud pure white so easily. I will try my best to keep that bright smiling face and that little me. But that’s just if, I am still me. The sky has been dark for too long, and the next stop is bright happiness. I will seize it. 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