Summer Musings Between Memory and Tomorrow
Summer in Guangzhou remains as scorching as ever. A few sparse clouds drift across the sky, and as the blazing sunlight envelops this corner of the world, the surrounding scenery appears exceptionally vibrant in colour. True to its name, Mirror Lake clearly reflects the flora along its banks—a lush, vibrant green, brimming with vitality. Walking alone beneath this brilliant sun, it feels as though all the melancholy and gloom within my body have nowhere to hide.
This is an unprecedented feeling, arriving at the dawn of my fifth year of university life.
To this day, I remain uncertain whether staying here for another three years is the right decision. Yet, I feel an unprecedented sense of loneliness and loss. Watching the companions with whom I spent every day fly far and wide, one after another, I find myself remaining right where I started. Each time I smiled and waved goodbye, gazing up at their retreating figures as they spread their wings, I could not help but feel a pang of melancholy. Now, as I walk alone along the university pathways, the surroundings feel excessively quiet; not only are the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter gone, but even the cicadas, whose drone I normally found clamorous, have fallen silent.
A few weeks ago, taking advantage of a trip home, I visited my old secondary school for a brief glance alongside a few classmates. One naturally feels a growing trepidation when drawing nearer to home; yet fortunately, this place—where I spent the three most important years of my youth—seemed to have changed very little, save for the fact that both our teachers and we ourselves bore a few more weathered marks of time. I harbour an inexplicable affection for those three years. Admittedly, the tedious, sunless days of exam preparation remain a nightmare to this day, yet there was no shortage of starlight—moments of the purest, most sincere youth. Pride, glory, dejection, and reluctance: the sweat of youth is always accompanied by these fervent, burning emotions.
High school gate, taken on 26th June.
I once believed I could squander my youth so recklessly and forever. Over a few fleeting years of alternating sunshine and rain, I have been forced to admit that those carefree, youthful days will never return. As Kahlil Gibran once remarked, you cannot have youth and the knowledge of it at the same time. Watching my companions enter society and embark on new journeys, I cannot help but reflect once more on the meaning of youth. Recalling the past, I too was once full of spirited resolve, possessing the heroic ambition to trample through any obstacle. I feel that what was most precious back then was the sheer drive of a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger. Faced with a vast grassland, I truly felt like a magnificent steed, daring to gallop without hesitation. Years have passed, leaving me with countless reflections. To live in this world is to be without absolute freedom. Bound by familial ties and friendships, and burdened with various responsibilities, we lose the liberty to act solely as we please. Consequently, we become increasingly indecisive, terrified of taking a wrong turn that might cost us yet more wasted time. Yet, when confronting the boundless heaven and earth once again, what I feel first is an overwhelming bewilderment about which direction to take, alongside the sorrow of another impending farewell to what has passed. Although I still believe there is vast potential and great work to be done in this wide world, it remains difficult to conceal the deep-seated anxiety in my heart.
I genuinely feel that the spirited vigour of youth is ephemeral, gone in a flash, leaving us to spend the rest of our lives savouring the memories and harbouring regrets. When I was young, I too believed in the immortality of youth. However, I fear that so-called immortality is merely a clumsy and poignant imitation. The line, “Late at night, lying awake to the wind and rain, armored horses and frozen rivers charge into my dreams,” may seem towering in heroism, yet it inevitably conceals a profound desolation. The young man who once wrote, “Why should a man not carry the Wu hook, to capture the fifty provinces of Guanshan?” would just three years later lament, “The chill of the moon and the warmth of the sun wear away at human life.” Now, though I still cling to the very tail end of my youth, I cannot help but sentimentalise over the passing seasons and sigh at the impermanence of the world.
My bond with Jinan University has only a brief, fleeting three years remaining. After experiencing a season of farewells, I cannot help but feel that every single day now is exceptionally precious. Life is so short; one must never live trapped in the past or in despair. Look forward—at the very least, I still possess the beautiful scenery before my eyes. The future is long, with countless wonders awaiting me. I admonish myself: cherish this time, for every present day will become an eternal memory of tomorrow.
Mirror Lake, taken on 24th July.
Afterword
Once the busy graduation season had passed, life returned to its normal track. Shuttling back and forth between the laboratory and the dormitory every day, all alone, a sudden wave of melancholy washed over me, prompting an urge to pick up my pen after a long hiatus to record something. Yet, after dallying and writing intermittently over several days, I have merely managed to jot down these rambling, disjointed reflections. Humanity, ultimately, must yield to the relentless passage of time and the ruthless scouring of fate. May he, in the days to come, still remember his younger self and those exhilarating dreams.