The youthful arrogance of yesteryear has vanished. The vibrant years of our lives have quietly slipped away. We, the post-80s generation, are now standing on the cusp of our twenties, facing the prospect of turning thirty. How many of us can still hold our heads high and confidently declare that we are still young? Yes, youth is an asset. But with the rise of the post-90s generation, are we, the post-80s, still young?
Once, we were proud, embracing lofty ideals, wandering through unfamiliar cities, searching for the truest dreams deep within our hearts. Once, no matter how difficult life was, we believed that as long as we worked hard, we would surely succeed. Once, we naively believed that even a tiny room could nurture our most beautiful love. Now, with our careers still stagnant, and love becoming elusive, will we, the post-80s, still say that youth is not afraid of failure?
One day, I realized that we, the post-80s, have already grown old. We are no longer reckless, no longer carefree, no longer open and honest, no longer smiling. What we have is the pressure of life, the fear of marriage, the disappointment of the future, and the hesitation to face difficulties…
Regarding work: we no longer have much passion; we only hope for a stable job. Risky jobs have been rejected. We, who once refused to use connections to find work, now face a stagnant career, where even our income can't provide for our basic needs. We have no choice but to succumb, abandoning our former pride, and begin to maximize our interpersonal relationships. The hardships of work are nothing to us; what matters is that we can keep this job.
Regarding relationships: we no longer see marriage as the sublimation of love, but as kinship. We no longer crave a romantic and exciting love, but yearn for a happy and fulfilling marriage. We once stubbornly believed that arranged marriages were only for those born in the 70s or earlier, but now we realize that arranged marriages have become the mainstream method of marriage for those born in the 80s. One blind date after another, one disappointment after another, has left me numb and repulsed by blind dates, yet I still find myself going to them. A friend said, "I'm either on a blind date, or on my way to one."
Regarding clothing: we, who once overly emphasized brand names, have become unfamiliar with them. The expensive clothes in our closets are too daunting for us working-class folks to even try on. Only after earning money did we realize how difficult life truly is. We no longer care about brands, but rather the quality and practicality of clothes, appropriate for the occasion. We no longer impulsively splurge on discounted clothes. It's not about quantity, but about presentability. What suits us is what we need; brands are just an illusion.
Regarding social interactions: as more and more friends have families, we lack the courage to talk to them about life anymore, because their conversations revolve around family, while we singles focus more on expressing our personal feelings. I no longer enjoy the bars and KTVs I once loved so much; I can no longer tolerate the noisy, chaotic environment. I prefer sitting in a coffee shop or teahouse, reading a book, listening to music, and savoring the bitterness of coffee or the fragrance of tea.
Regarding family: family transcends love and friendship; everything comes first. The impulsiveness of the past is gone; I understand my parents' good intentions and learn to empathize with their helplessness. The once simple family relationships suddenly became clear one day; I realized that relationships between people are never so simple, and the most trustworthy people, besides my parents, are myself. I increasingly dislike visiting relatives and friends because there are always many questions, especially about marriage.
Regarding entertainment: I suddenly find myself using my phone less and less, sending fewer and fewer text messages, sometimes even preferring to make a quick phone call rather than send a text. My QQ isn't flashing as incessantly as before; I've left many groups, and some I've muted out of politeness, only occasionally chatting briefly before going offline. We'll never again waste time playing games, neglecting sleep and meals. More often, we'll be engrossed in a book, reading quietly.
When shopping, we'll consider any free gifts, rather than buying whatever looks appealing. We won't buy things we don't like just to get a freebie. Shopping is no longer about strolling; it's become a purposeful activity. We buy what we want and leave quickly. Pretty, delicate trinkets are admired on the counter and then put back, never to be taken home and tucked away.
We've learned to think things through carefully; the fairy tales are long gone.
We, the post-80s generation, are starting to admit we're getting old. We lack the youth and passion of the post-90s; all we have are weary hearts, struggling to make ends meet. Even playing a game of ball feels stifling for us. Lack of exercise has led to beer bellies.
The post-90s generation has grown up, becoming more responsible. Their passion and energy inspire countless people around them. The stage of society has begun to be built for them. On this vast stage, they dance gracefully, and we watch with admiring eyes. I can't help but sigh: it turns out that we, the post-80s generation, have already grown old, but we've always been unwilling to admit it.
I remember when we were young, he loved to talk and I loved to laugh.
The wind rustled in the treetops, the birds sang, and somehow I fell asleep, dreaming of countless falling flowers…
In the blink of an eye, the post-80s generation has grown up, but as we move among skyscrapers, we still yearn for our childhood, a
childhood that can never be relived and will forever belong only to the 1980s…
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