Too many things have passed, know the depth, no longer dream. Too many people have seen it, and the world is hot and cold, and I have experienced it. People are no longer excited, but also easily touched.
Alcohol is just an image and can be a middle-aged dream in many ways.
It is the stage of looking back at the road in the past and looking up at the road ahead. Swallow the pain by yourself, speak your own words, and solve things by yourself.
Familiarity with the world, lost passion and curiosity. What you get is disappointment and boredom. And broken dreams. Physical decline.
Return to zero, empty the cup, throw away the baggage, overcome cowardice, and keep going.
The past is worthless, dragging a half-disabled body and living a life that seems to be repeated, where does the courage come from?
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