Next year there will be snow next year
Next year's mist
Next year's endless sunshine
And next year's countless vitality
Unsteadily, time has reached the year 2023.
Lost in thought, it seems that the Spring Festival of 2022 is still within reach.
That day, I stepped on the snowy ground of the north and boarded the green train. After curling up in the carriage for twenty-seven hours, I stood on the station's stone bricks again.
And then,
it was a busy year.
It was also a dull year.
It was mostly a year of mediocrity.
There were no significant breakthroughs in technology, work was not going smoothly, social interactions were as monotonous as usual, and as for traveling... I didn't take many steps.
Overall, it was a year overshadowed by shadows, plain and dim.
The only difference was that after being under control and covered by nucleic acid tests, it became the target of the virus again after December.
But no matter what, change is worth looking forward to; whether it's cold or sunny behind the curtain, it will only be known after it is torn apart.
Winter in Guangdong does not have snow, it is not very cold, but most of the time it lacks the warm sunshine of winter, adding a touch of gloom.
I miss the sound of crunching snow when I wore thick gloves and wrapped a scarf around my neck in the bright sunlight during elementary school;
I also miss the drowsiness in the morning and the self-study at night in middle school, as well as the countless nights of eating midnight snacks, playing with my phone, and studying under the lamp;
I also miss the time wasted in college, staying up all night before exams, and the lawn and paths covered with ginkgo leaves in autumn.
Unfortunately, people cannot live in memories after all.
In most deserted nights, even sighs and reminiscences seem extravagant. Because the alarm clock will still ring on time, and in the limited time, sleep is still more important.
But fortunately, it is now the weekend, and the recent days have been quite sunny.
The night outside the window is filled with a rich darkness, and when I look out, I can only see a reflection on the glass.
It hides in the hazy night light, silently watching me, as if telling the hardships and silence of the past.
The sound of fireworks rang out, and through the small window, I guessed that it should be quite beautiful.
There is no scenery outside the window, so I turn my head back.
Suffering is not over, and suffering is not worth celebrating.
The sun will still rise, and people must continue to struggle and be lost in life.
But no matter what, I still sincerely hope that when I wake up tomorrow, I can face the sun and say,
Good morning, 2023.