Written by Minh Ngoc from HHT.
Translated by ChatGPT into English.
There was a time when we always believed in the tiny waves that murmured inside the shells forever...
There was a time when we always believed that if we made a wish when a shooting star passed by, that wish would come true...
There was a time when we always believed in Variusa's steel ring, that if we wore it on our ring finger, it would blossom into a great belief, and if we wore it on our index finger, it would be the convergence of the beauty of the earth and sky...
In such a time, we believed without understanding. Today, at the age of eighteen, do we still have the belief in the miraculous fairy tales?
What's behind the fairy tales? To win the prince of her heart, the princess had to overcome countless difficulties and had to recognize the bumps under twelve mattresses with her delicacy.
What else is behind the fairy tales? Have the authors of fairy tales ever enjoyed the happiness in their own fairy tales? Have we ever thought about this? We are eighteen now, have our bright eyes ever missed the things that exist on the ground? A clump of green grass that overflowed with the fragrance of life, tiny flowers like little bells on a gray moss background, aren't they magical? Although we know that life is not always about romance, have we rushed past the fragile, hardest-to-notice things that the universe has sent to us?
It is said that there is a devil's mirror that distorts and defiles the object. If the shards of the mirror hit someone's eyes, they will not see the beauty, and if they hit someone's heart, the heart will become cold. We, you and I, do not want those shards to stay in our eyes, to lodge in our hearts because we know that although every day is not a fairy tale, somewhere, there are still some paths that the eighteen-year-olds go through.
It is still the same fairy tale, but the glitter comes from the innocence of children that no longer exists. We will only encounter the dryness of the letters on paper if we do not know how to listen to the breath of life behind the letters, and that is also behind the fairy tales. Blind faith cannot exist forever, but let's understand the fairy tales so that we can believe in the fairy tales of the eighteen-year-olds, so that "our hearts are like the sun in the beginning, without any fear of darkness".
Those days slipped through our fingers without us realizing it, like the small rays of sunlight from the past, disappearing when the evening gently passed through the half-closed door, leaving me searching for them until now.
Over the past eighteen years, we've encountered each other at different emotional stages, some things have passed and will never return, some things are yet to come and we don't know about them, and sometimes we ask ourselves whether we've been living or just existing?
The crystals bloom and then wither away.
And the Little Mermaid
The beautiful flowers sparkle in the flames of the sandy blue beach
And the fairy tales of childhood are now just memories. However, time cannot erase memories; it only covers them with dust so that when we look back, everything becomes blurred, like looking through tears. That's why sometimes, a gentle melody from the sea still echoes in me, even though the dream of the prince has long faded away.
Holding Andersen, why doesn't my heart cry... The time of weeping with the little mermaid in the depths of the sea has passed, as has the resentment and indifference of the prince. Just a little self-reminder, can old Andersen forget?
The lead soldier melted into ashes.
The little match girl was buried in the sand...
And even though the crystals bloom and wither away, there still remains a melody from the sea...
Closing this eighteen-year journey is an end, yet also a beginning. A little philosophy, a little sentimentality, to understand the fairy tales that we held in our hearts during our innocent childhood and to preserve them as a precious treasure for the next journey in life. Then, we will have to face what is coming with greater depth, just as we have learned to look deeply into the past of fairy tales. Are we not, at eighteen years old, my friend? Are we not, me and you...?
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