The sun was melting and eating everyone at midday. I was not an exception. However, I could not be digested because the sun’s stomach juices were dried up by its own heat. As a result, I was luckily spit out from its mouth. In a daze, I stormed into my dorm, feeling that I was a dangerously explosive sunspot.
I watched that video recording again. All people, my dear high school classmates and teachers (I am sure some of them are destined to be my life-long friends and a few, my soul-mates), were captured in it. It was a graduation gift for me and it was all about our everyday life—many happy returns. I fast-forwarded and then rewound now and then, watching many of us being genuinely happy—only too happy; quite a few swimming like deep-sea fishes, silent and restrained; while the rest suddenly drifting across like ghosts, their face set. I sat bolt upright and felt as if I was difficultly but attentively recalling an old dream.
I know it was my own shining golden age and so is now. I still have passion for love, food and songs. Meanwhile, I am even more aware that all this cannot last forever and one day I will be too sophisticated like a sleek cat to afford enthusiasm. The problem is that I realize that I have to be hurried up to treasure my youth but I do not know how. After all, though I feel happy to hang out and wander about, wasting time cannot bring us satisfaction in a long run.
A dangerously explosive sunspot is dynamic but cannot think, while a deep-sea fish is pretty cool. However, neither of them can escape from becoming old and lonely. So I really hope that ghosts exist. One day we will be free, without worrying about being old, as long as there are many other ghosts stay with you.
Thinking of this, I suddenly realize that how envy of our growing old ghosts can be. Growing up with my golden age's vanishing is not that bad anyway.
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Yeah, I quite agree with you that growing old can be painful at times. And I am confident that most of our peers share this kind of feelings at this stage. Sometimes, we feel overwhelmed by the acute nostalgia for our days in high school when we laugh childishly together. But as we grow older, it seems that we’ve lost some kind of right to behave naively. We may not simple anymore and become a sleek cat. I think that’s because we are so afraid to be harmed that we hide our true self behind a mask and bury our secrets deep in our heart. However, wrinkles and creases can be the medal for growing up. Growing old does not equal to losing passion and enthusiasm. It is merely that we are more mature to know when to let them out appropriately. May all of us enjoy growing old.
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