Time flows like the wind and moon, passing through every season and every day with steady steps. Looking back, the passing days are like a shimmering kaleidoscope, casting unique patterns that can never be replicated; every reunion and parting, every joy and sorrow, becomes a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I have come to realize that youth is a one-way train—it cannot return, and there are no stations to stop at.
The morning bells and evening drums urge me to hoist my sails for a long voyage, yet my heart remains like a leaf lingering on its branch, hesitant in the winds of yesterday. Though I know I must not delay my journey, I find it hard to escape the bonds of emotion and seal the past within the castle of memory. As I pass through each sunrise and sunset, it feels as if I am standing in a clear river—this water is my life, a treasure I possess only once. Yet, I often stand still in the current, letting the upstream waters pass through me to become the downstream, watching my future become my past. By obsessing over yesterday, I risk losing my today and tomorrow, ultimately coming to nothing.
I often wonder, when the blossoms of spring and the fruits of autumn have all become history, and I sit amidst the snow of my memories, contemplating the stories etched in the lines on my face, what kind of state of mind will I be in? I should have gained wisdom through experience, yet I still fall for simple deceptions; I should have learned to cherish the spring after enduring winter, yet I still cling to childhood tales. The path traveled seems like a circle, returning to the starting point after a long journey. Thus, I find myself constantly doing the same thing: seeking my purpose.
Through deep contemplation, I finally understood that the simple cycle of vegetation is a profound lesson: a flower blooms only once, and grass stays green for only a year. The past flows away like smoke in the wind; there is no need to desperately chase or dwell upon it. The train of youth carries countless passengers; no one can predict the encounters along the way, and no one can return to the moment they boarded. Since there is no other choice, I will let the tracks of time crush my past disappointments and triumphs. I will push open the windows, bathe in the fresh air and sunlight, and embrace a brand-new journey. For I know now that youth is a one-way train—it cannot return, and there are no stations to stop at.
