Time is called by many names.

When they were children, they called time childhood. frolic, playful, unrestrained running in the sunset;

When I was still a teenager, people called time youth. Studies, love, and unbridled romance and joy in the ocean of knowledge;

When you are a young man, people call time rushed. Marriage, work, struggling to earn money to support the family in Hongchen.

As we reach middle age, we call time health. Goji berries, salvia, soak a pot of chrysanthemums in boiling water.

In old age, people call time the rest of their lives. Memories, cares, and is reluctant to live every day in the bed.

Time leaves people with many treasures. It makes people babble in birth, and it also makes people wander in pain and happiness. Time has many forms, so people also have many forms, happy laughter, painful crying, and rare encounters. Time has left an irreversible imprint of existence: it climbs to people's cheeks, climbs to people's foreheads, and forms a series of engraved wrinkles about life; It infects people's sideburns, and it uses green silk to turn gray hair to witness the true color of the years. It gives so much to people, and it is reclaiming every moment and every moment that is not cherished by people.

Time ticks silently, ticks and ticks, I listen to the voice, time is flowing. Lay down the tired mind, relax the unbearable and uneasy, and listen quietly with your ears, to listen to the ticking of time.

Don't seek vanity, don't love the passing years, just hope that time will be slower. There are still a lot of love that have not been confessed, there are still a lot of words that have not been told, and there are many people who have not been seen before, and there is no news, and they have forgotten each other, and they have forgotten each other on this vast river and lake.

Time ticks, time laughs leisurely, it laughs at us, laughs and sighs why we didn't cherish it in the first place. It's a dream, but it's awake, and time is ticking, more noisy than noisy, more peaceful than quiet. Gazing, I have to hide my heart. Hidden, but growing in memories. Grow into the sky, grow into the earth, may grow into the true color of life in any expectation, willing to riveting enough strength, willing to set sail, willing to poetry and distance, and willing to live reluctantly.

In 2018, let's stop stumbling.

In 2019, let's cherish what we have.

In 2020, let's find our original intention.

Note: It's the same routine every year, I just changed the numbers in "2018, Let's Start Again" written last year, this is the truth of mediocre and ordinary life.