又到一年年末,崭新的一年带着许多未可知浩浩荡荡地闯进我们的人生。总觉得到了一定的年纪之后,时间就变得不经用起来,去年守着零点跨年的情景似乎还未曾远去,今年又将进入尾声。在那漫不经心打马而过的十二个月份中,我们拥有过、感恩过,也曾错失过、追悔过,有太多的故事不动声色地演绎着。到了这一段尾巴上的日子,不知正在暖黄的灯光下落笔成文的远方的你,写下了怎样一段旧时光? And by the end of the year, a new year with many unknowable mighty forces broke into our lives. It always felt that after a certain period of time, time became unused. Last year, the scene of holding a zero-crossing year seems to have not gone far and this year will come to an end again. In the twelve months of careless play, we had, grateful, had missed, regretted, there are too many stories quietly interpreted. To this day on the tail, I do not know in the light of the warm yellow pen down the written distance far you wrote down the old time?