Don't let yourself become indifferent...

 　　I went to the Shenzhen Book City today and bought two books. It's been so long since I've read a book. Time flies like mist and rain, leaving no trace, only fleeting impressions. Familiar scenes from the past flashed through my mind. Once upon a time, I was just a naive kid who stayed up late playing CrossFire after work every day. Now, when I get home from work, my mind is still preoccupied with unfinished tasks. Time has passed, leaving only memories.


　　This city carries so many memories: those familiar roads, the magnificent landmark "Shenzhen North Railway Station"—where we met, where we said goodbye, where we left, and where we returned. I remember the beautiful coastline "Nan'ao Xichong Beach," where I spent happy holidays, feeling the vastness of the sea. I recall the flat, wide coastal road of "Mangrove Forest," where I leisurely enjoyed the warmth before dusk, savoring the tranquility amidst the bustling city.


　　We experienced all those wonderful things together, and now I recall them alone. The departure was so poignant. Who can understand the heart-wrenching pain of leaving? Who can understand the pain that encompasses so much helplessness and the inability to speak out to hold on? It


　　doesn't matter what happened along the way anymore; it doesn't matter what happened in the past. What's the use of leaving only those lingering fragments?

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