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The Burden of Growing Up |
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I used to laugh every day, until I became a child who was too afraid to cry.
People envied me, thinking that I did not know sorrow. They did not
understand how their words pierced my wounds. I am not stronger than anyone
else, I just learned how to hide my pain. If you see me smiling quietly,
it's because I'm pretending to be strong.
The recklessness of youth and the sorrow of today are buried deep inside me,
transformed into so-called maturity. I don't care about sadness or
desolation anymore, wiping away the tears in the corner of my eyes. I put on
a smile and give you a bright sunshine.
On the path of growing up, I skip over the sorrows and stop to admire the
past.
The sunflowers facing the sun, rooting in our hearts.
On the barren plain, there are old and weathered tombstones, engraved with
the story of our growth. The shadows of the trees sway over the words on the
tombstone with the passing sunlight. The birds fly with trembling wings,
their distant cries mourning for the lost youth. Our real smiles died at the
fork in time, buried in a hurry. Clasping our hands tightly, hiding the
tears that spread across our palms, stubbornly not allowing anyone to look.
Who told me that the tears of the soul have no shape? Our growth is
intertwined with the lines on our palms, it is entangled, hiding, binding,
and restraining. The light of the North Star illuminates the illusions of
the world, at that grand ball, the pale ghosts mourn for the innocence of
our growth.
I thought that if I just laughed hard enough, I could forget the passing
time. I also thought that if I was happy enough, I could forget the
loneliness in my heart.
The clock ticks away, and the old man of time does not look back. Will
anyone be like Peter Pan, never to grow up? If the old man of time forgets
to take you away, is it a tragedy or a utopia in your heart?
Dreams tell you that there is a ladder called time that leads to a peaceful
paradise, where there is no panic for lost toys, no sadness for not getting
candy. People walk from one end of time to the other, finally worn out, and
weary, but they have won their growth.
When you understand that life is a play directed by God, he smiles and tells
you what is emptiness, and what is chasing the wind. Life is ultimately a
cycle. Those stories keep replaying like black and white movies, and they
all revolve around growth, encompassing all the pain.
When the moon and the sun shine together in front of you, we all know that:
One is a child's wish, and the other is an adult's sorrow.
In fact, neither of them wants to grow up.
Growing Up is a Burden. |
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Answer |
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Growing up can be a heavy burden, causing us to hide our pain and pretend to
be strong. The recklessness of youth and the sorrow of today can be
transformed into maturity, but the sadness still lingers. Our growth is
intertwined with the lines on our palms, hiding, binding, and restraining
us. Life is ultimately a cycle of growth and pain, replaying like a movie.
The moon represents a child's wish, and the sun an adult's sorrow. Neither
wants to grow up, but it's an inevitable part of life's play directed by
God. In the end, we may be worn out and weary, but we have won our growth. |
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