Golden Age reading notes

The sky was slightly dark, and there were lazy clouds floating in the sky. The lower half is sunk in the darkness, and the upper half is still floating in the sun. I was twenty-one years old that day, in the golden age of my life. I have a lot of extravagant hopes. I want to love, I want to eat, and I want to turn into a half-light and half-dark cloud in the sky in an instant.

At that time, it didn't matter how fashionable it was, it didn't matter how popular it was, and everyone didn't have any property. There's no pop music, no movies to watch, and in the midst of boredom, everyone wants to get someone else in trouble.

But I thought I was dreaming, and I was ecstatic—although there were many people around me, I felt that only I was ecstatic, because since it was a dream, everyone else was fake, and only I was real.

There was no moon that night, but starlight. For someone like me who used to walking at night in those years, this light is enough.

It was the dry season, and the sky was white and the sun was shining.

This is called authenticity. The truth is just not being able to wake up.

So I thought that everyone has their own essence.

In my opinion, loneliness is the freedom to do everything.

Loneliness is as black as night, sweet as sugar, mellow as wine.

Whenever and wherever we are, we are participating in a game in which the one who gets the highest score wins according to the rules of the game, and there is no other purpose.

It was just after the rainy season. Clouds rise from all directions. A ray of sunlight flashed on the ceiling. We have a variety of options to go in all directions. So I stood at the intersection for a long time.