600-word composition for the senior high school entrance examination, 1, searched and searched, and I searched and searched. ...
Enlarging the pupil of time and turning the gear of time, I saw that life was compressed into frames of film full of light and slowly disappeared from my eyes. ...
Sunset covered the quiet village with a thin layer of gold gauze, and milky white smoke curled up and circled in the chimneys of every household, unwilling to leave. A little girl of seven or eight years old stood at the entrance of the village, holding a doll bought by her father, and kept looking at the road to the city. Her little body trembled slightly in the cold wind.
"Dear granddaughter, go home!" Behind him came an old man's hoarse cry. The little girl looked forward, without looking back or responding.
"Grandma has cooked the meal, let's go home and wait slowly!" The old man grabbed the girl by the wrist and tried to take her home.
"I don't want it!" The little girl shook off her grandmother's hand. "Mom and dad promised to come back today. I'm not going back. I will wait for them here! " "The little girl's face is a little stubborn for her age.
"Why are you so disobedient?" Grandma was anxious, raised her hand and put it down gently. "Let's go home and wait, it's all the same! If you don't listen, mom and dad won't want you! "
"..." The little girl was frightened by the last sentence and had to let her grandmother drag her home. It's just that she kept looking back until the long and endless highway shrank into a small point. ...
At that time, the little girl was very simple. Waiting for her parents to come home every weekend was the whole center of her life.
With the growth of age, the life in the eyes of the little girl began to show another color. Having lived with her parents for a long time, she certainly doesn't need to look forward to their presence when night falls. On the contrary, she vaguely hoped that she could live independently, leaving her father's nagging and mother's hug, which she eagerly hoped for when she was a child. She saw another door of life, a colorful door full of temptation. She tried to push it away. ...
When the little girl was scarred and returned to the pale and monotonous home that she disliked, she saw two concerned faces, and the happy expression was like waiting for her parents to come home at last. So the little girl smiled, as simple and beautiful as many years ago. She finally understood that where there is love, there is home and there is real life.
Everyone walks in a hurry in the journey of life every day, but too many people walk too fast and look at the road under their feet. As a result, they often stumble over stones and suffer failure. So please take some time to look at the road under your feet.
On the way, please look back at the past road. In the past, we need to sum up where and why we fell. The Soviet Union's highly centralized political and economic system always leads to economic stagnation. Although both Khrushchev and Gorbachev have carried out reforms, they are all reforms that treat the symptoms rather than the root cause. The reason lies in whether we have conscientiously summed up the experience and lessons and carried out the reform of "changing the soup without changing the medicine".
Eventually led to the disintegration of the Soviet government. The ancients said, "Remember the past and learn from the future." On the road, please always look at the road you have walked, and don't fall in the same place.
On the road, please watch your step. We can't change the road of the past, nor can we decide the road of the future. Taking the present road is the only chance to change our lives. Liu, the head coach of China men's table tennis, gave an example: "In the world series, a player will meet Swedish veteran persson in the second round according to the drawing order." The player vowed to beat him, put a photo of persson on the bed, wrote a big "kill", and studied persson's style all day. As a result, it was eliminated in the first round. "The key to this player's failure is that he was too ambitious and didn't see the road under his feet. On the way, please leave the road under your feet and seize the opportunity to change your destiny. "
On the road, please look forward to the future forever. Although the future is far away, beautiful rainbows and red clouds will bring you hope. Li Kaifu, the president of Google China, majored in politics when he was in college, but he didn't have keen political insight and almost failed the credit. Later, he saw the bright future of the IT industry. He discovered his extraordinary talent in computer and finally decided to change his major. His future is as beautiful as a rainbow. On the road, see the future clearly and enhance your confidence with the beautiful scenery of the future.
Come on, the road is under your feet. Let's always look back, pay more attention to our feet and look forward to the future. On the road, we advance together and succeed together.
I have been on edge since I took the mid-term exam last week.
The teacher said that the results would be published this week, so I was ready to cry in advance. Because my Chinese scores are better, I am most looking forward to the results of Chinese. Although I don't know whether I can reach 1 10, I am fully confident that I can exceed the lifeline of 104.
Monday passed, the teacher didn't announce the results, and I had a miserable day. On Tuesday, I ran to the teaching building hopefully and waited patiently for the teacher, but the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment, and the teacher said nothing about the result. I can't help wondering if I did badly in the exam.
Lying in bed at night, tossing and turning, thinking about grades, can't sleep. I silently counted my achievements: one point was deducted for mistakes in dictation, ten points for writing, five points for reading classical Chinese, five points for narratives and seven points for additional questions. If I deduct it like this, it's about 106, then my score should not be lower than 104. Well, I'm relieved to think about it, but I'm thinking, what if my choice of questions or imitation sentences are wrong? If I make a mistake, it will be below the lifeline and I will not achieve my goal. I can't sleep again, and I'm anxious to find out what places on the test paper can guarantee that I won't deduct points, but I can't find them. My heart is more anxious than before, and fear hangs over me. No matter how hard I struggle, I can't escape, as if I will be swallowed up in the next second. I couldn't help but pull the quilt and let it cover me firmly, so I fell asleep groggy.
On Wednesday morning, I changed from expectation to nervousness. After a safe morning, I didn't expect to get grades in the afternoon self-study class. I looked at the teacher nervously, looking at the results from the first one. I was the eighth, and soon got the score of Guo Lei 105. I froze for a few seconds before I realized it, and I couldn't help laughing excitedly.
Although I have reached the lifeline, if I am a little careless, I will be seriously left behind. I can't stand still, I must work harder.
Sitting in the quiet examination room, my thoughts seemed to fly back to the hospital when I was sick, picking up the happiness when I was alone in the hospital, and the voice that penetrated my heart seemed to ring in my ears again. ...
It was last summer, and I was ill. During those days in the hospital, every night comes, I always want to enjoy a piece of music in loneliness, preferably a violin, such as butterfly lovers. When the faint string sounds, I always feel that there is a lightness that lingers around me. However, this is a hospital and I can't get it.
Then, I remembered the sounds of nature, and Liang Shiqiu once said, "When the autumn wind blows, the sound of rustling leaves comes in waves, such as tides, such as rainstorms, such as Ma Benteng, such as rushing away;" After a calm, listen carefully, and the dead leaves are knocking on the steps. Autumn rain falls, like eating mulberry leaves at first, and then hitting banana leaves. "The atmosphere of" the rain is scattered and the wind is sudden "and" the phoenix tree is drizzling "must be very suitable for patients, but this time is not autumn, so I can't take it out.
I've heard that the hearing of the blind is the most sensitive, so I closed my eyes and listened to the voice outside the window with bated breath. Indeed, I heard several insect sounds, which seemed vague and indistinct, bit by bit, like the moon in the water and flowers in the fog, and it was difficult to distinguish. I pricked up my ears, hoping to continue to listen clearly, but it entered a far corner, and suddenly appeared after a while, clearly ringing in my ear-"Haw, Haw ..."
At this time of summer night, the intermittent sound of insects is neither refreshing of light music, nor euphemistic of larks, nor sweet of Koizumi's ding-dong, so I used to feel monotonous, ugly and even harsh. Now I just appreciate its charm and enjoy the silence of the ward alone. This is the music in my heart.
At this time, sitting in the quiet examination room and recalling the "music" I heard in the ward in the silent night, I realized the happy feeling when I was alone, because those bugs that penetrated my heart left me with a pure, beautiful and elegant aftertaste.
I am not a girl who is good at expressing her feelings in words. I have a lot of worries and thoughts that I can only chew slowly in the middle of the night. Words are the best way for me to talk to the world. Sometimes I feel like a Firefox with hemoptysis, running in the snow, chasing dreams and leaving beautiful footprints.
In the dead of night, a person fell on the desk and confided in a blank piece of paper. I heard the sound of the second hand moving, like a heartbeat, even and powerful, and I was inexplicably moved. In this silent night, fortunately, it is accompanied.
When writing, it is time for me to calm down physically and mentally. When I am quiet, I find myself so light, just like this despised paper, so light that only my soul is left. Free yourself from the cage during the day, walk into the jungle of freedom at night, turn off the TV, avoid the gossip news, drive away the illusory imagination, and listen to the faint breathing of insects in the corner, only to find that the world is so wonderful.
Every night, I keep my place, put aside tedious affairs, boring Arabic numerals and various formulas, give my soul to manuscript paper and entrust my thoughts to words. The whole world is surprisingly quiet in an instant. In this strangely quiet, I fantasize about choosing a good weather, finding a good friend, sitting together and chatting, watching the ebb and flow of the tide, and how comfortable it is.
I always try to brush off the mottled refutations on the road of fate, although they are so complicated. Rough life, poetic life, gurgling in my pen. No matter how wronged and stressed I am during the day, as long as I pick up my pen at night, they will immediately become words and write down my feelings. I believe that even if there are so many different experiences and feelings between people, as long as they enter the world of words, they will feel the same.
The past is over, what is there to remember? "A moment that should last forever has come and gone before I realize it." I can only draw the trajectory of my life on the manuscript paper in my heart with a pen.