The protagonist of that story is not me 20

Every autumn, I unconsciously returned to a lazy state, drinking coffee on the side of the road, still without sugar and creamer, the slight bitterness mixed with a melancholy fragrance, suddenly I missed the moment of falling leaves, and some were just broken thoughts on the side of the road.

People come and go, and the people in the seats opposite me change and change, in fact, everyone is the same, because I am used to exclude myself from other people's lives as much as possible, looking at other people's stories, I have no better explanation for their troubles, I can only say my own opinions, without any educational meaning, occasionally tell a few jokes, and nag a few thoughtful greetings.

It's been like this for a long time, and in other people's stories, I've been playing the role of a listener diligently. Even I would suddenly wander and forget that I had the same experience, the same confusion. I am no longer the protagonist, and I don't dare to touch my sensitive heartstrings, I still drink something slowly, listening to the joys and sorrows of others.

Inexplicably opened her blog, I suddenly found that the protagonist is no longer me, she is addicted to the current feelings, and my memory is trapped in the corner, has become the past tense, to my surprise, I did not have the slightest loss, a faint smile raised at the corner of my mouth, time is an eraser, erased the feeling of the past, leaving only a faint imprint, I blew away the eraser, found that I was still blank on the paper of feelings, and I didn't want to write a new prologue.

Rhinitis still comes in September, there is no shortage of torture, I take advantage of my soberness, smile to pay attention to the people I cherish, today my coffee is added with milk and sugar, I do not reject such a change, always have to move forward, before leaving, the illusion reappears, as if everything is back to me, hearing familiar lyrics from afar.

She said don't cry. This is where we end.

Maybe it's better for me to forget about it.

She said don't cry. The breakup was a gift to me.

Maybe the wound will heal soon.

The wound has healed, half a year has passed in a flash, and although sometimes the scenes overlap, I know that I am no longer anyone's protagonist, I am just a smile in the corner of a roadside café.

Kid, go write your own essays, don't let people ghostwrite on the Internet.

Don't copy my article, okay? I wrote it for myself, not for you to publish or plagiarize!

This is a story of negative energy, because of the so-called dream, gave up the job, and finally gave up because of the father's serious illness and the failure of the band, and because of the so-called girl who insisted on her dream, and finally, in debt, her father died of illness.

I think what this story is about is that people want to be realistic, and society is realistic, don't do something unreliable because of some girls and dreams, and you will make yourself worse in the end, the truth is reality.

It should be him. Because others don't always show up.

Hao Yun, a singer, is a very inspirational story.