The Taste of Youth

     When youth draws to a close, how should we, stripped of our makeup, view that period of time? What kind of time was it? It was when he or she was sharp-edged, when he or she was cynical, when he or she was headstrong.

    Youth is a kind of being young, on tender faces, in naive ignorance, in the punishment of impulsiveness. That feeling, unforgettable yet lingering, becomes the essence of youth in the process of letting go.
    What is the essence of youth? It's not just being young, but also passion, and even more so, vitality. It's when they exude pure joy and liveliness, when they wear outlandish clothes, when they feign sorrow for the sake of poetry. All this impulsiveness exists only in the phrase, "In youth, one knows not the taste of sorrow; now (in middle age), one knows it all, wanting to speak but holding back. Wanting to speak but holding back, one says only, 'What a fine autumn day!'"
    If middle age is a heavy burden, then youth is a lightness. If middle age is a realistic novel, then youth is a poem brimming with romance. Youth is carefree because it lacks the worldly wisdom and social maneuvering of middle age, and the so-called "stances" and "principles" of middle age. It is beautiful and joyful because of its simplicity, clarity, sincerity, frankness, and clear-cut likes and dislikes. Youth often has more choices due to its youthful detachment, while middle-aged people often find themselves trapped in the constraints of livelihood, unable to extricate themselves, even in seemingly selective circumstances. The potential for maturity versus naivety is evident here.
    Some may believe that middle age is a more advanced stage of youth, an inevitable part of the growth process. You can agree with this view or disagree. From youth to middle age, there is undeniable growth, marked by composure and maturity. But how much of our innate nature do we lose in middle age? What has shaped your composure and maturity, and what has bound your true nature? When you lose your youthful innocence, your naivety, and the consequences of your impulsiveness in the pursuit of worldly wisdom and social maneuvering, you become incredibly calculating. When you lose the sharp edges of someone in your cunning and world-weary demeanor, when someone is cynical or willful, you are no longer the person you once were. Conformity and adaptation have stripped away your spirit, leaving you with more stances and principles. These principles are always a variation of human nature imposed by society; you can't say they are right or wrong. You are simply seeking your own practical benefits in the process of emerging from your cocoon. Besides, most people have walked this path generation after generation.
    As time passes and we turn the page on youth, have we truly found peace and acceptance? No, not at all. The meaning of life becomes exceptionally real and clear because of our pragmatism. Our past hesitation has turned into present helplessness; our former sharp edges have become present smoothness, not tact. The inevitability of growing up doesn't bring us joy, but rather a lingering nostalgia for the taste of youth.
    The taste of youth is there when we flip through photo albums, when we open our diaries, when we run away from home, when we chat freely with our buddies, even when we see a group of young faces on the street—all these emotions are released in this way. And we are vividly pulled back to that other side of time. The taste of youth lingers even longer because we've removed the makeup. It's not because we feel lost for not cherishing it when we lose it, but because our so-called maturity can no longer hold that youth, that vitality, that passion!