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Living for the moments we can't put into words.
I collect moments that feel like rebellion: staying in bed an hour later than planned, eating ice cream for dinner, saying “no” to plans that drain me, choosing joy even when the world feels heavy.
I get excited when I find a pen that writes perfectly—smooth, no skips—and I keep it in my pocket like a little treasure.
Sleepless night, wipe a acacia tears. Open the window, drink a bitter long wind, smiled, woke up, the original is just drunk. Those beautiful days of the imagination, have been thousands of miles away from me, the years of guilt should be exiled. Looking back, did not take away the dust of the past, but left a handful of sadness; Overlook, while the day is not wasteland is not old, unrestrained forward.
Sleepless night, wipe a acacia tears. Open the window, drink a bitter long wind, smiled, woke up, the original is just drunk. Those beautiful days of the imagination, have been thousands of miles away from me, the years of guilt should be exiled. Looking back, did not take away the dust of the past, but left a handful of sadness; Overlook, while the day is not wasteland is not old, unrestrained forward.
At the beginning, our school had a recommended place in Peking University, I did not go. There are two reasons, one is that the weather in Beijing is not suitable for me, and the other is that the person who was sent is not me.
Experience for maturity, maturity is hurt and cheated more, smarter.