I always have an inexplicable fear of rituals for New Year, festivals, and birthdays.

The world, with some kind of implied expectation, makes me take a stand on my past life stages, as if I can no longer live so muddle-headedly and without reflection.

And trying to summarize the past stages of my life is so exhausting: I made some correct choices that I feel fortunate about, and fate helped me; I made many wrong choices that I regret, but I learned from them.

The only thing I can't do is to write down my summary in detail, because the glory and mud of the past have accompanied me throughout these twenty-plus years of life, like a dream, condensed into a few milestone-like marks, and then become fireworks and horns that I keep throwing myself towards an unknown future.

Happy New Year.