Composition 1part 1part on New Year's Day.
The tedious and lengthy summer is always accompanied by faint flowers and a trace of sadness, but for me, it is cold except cold. At a loss. Standing in the middle of the huge square, the midday sun, the sinister sunshine, bared its teeth above my head, as if trying to penetrate my soul. Suddenly, I want to know what I look like under this body. I want to see what kind of guy is hiding under my skin-undoubtedly an ugly, selfish, hypocritical, cowardly fool, and disgusting. Yeah, that's disgusting. People passing by in the square cast all kinds of eyes at me, and I was disgusted. That's irony, ridicule, contempt, contempt and sympathy. I have nothing worthy of their sympathy, I don't need sympathy! I gave them a cold look, and then a silent back, left behind.
It's still early
Night comes as scheduled, and the vast Dongguan under the cover of night is deep and depressing. At this point, I have a little illusion, as if this strange city is a bit like Maggie Cheung in a Wong Kar-wai movie standing at the window in the middle of the night, lighting a cigarette and decadent until dawn. However, illusion is always illusion. The calmer Dongguan is, the more luxurious it is. The night is getting deeper and deeper, and a luxurious atmosphere permeates the sky of the city-Dongguan, which is a city that never sleeps. At 4 o'clock in the morning, standing on the narrow balcony, staring at the night. I'm not Maggie Cheung. I don't have her handsome share or her lonely share. All I have is decline, and all I have is loneliness and repeated small emotions. Staring at the sky's eyes, suddenly a little astringent. Night is a hotbed of missing. Suddenly I miss that city and some people in that city. Dongguan, too far from that city, too far from me. Miss, miss, miss, miss ... I keep repeating these two words. Suddenly, my eyes were a little moist, and a little bit flashed in my eyes, like the star when I was enlightened, which was clearly extinguished, looming, and suddenly dimmed. It's not light yet. Is still a dead silence. At night, the distance will be swallowed into the bones. Looking at the distance, there are endless holes in my eyes. Before dawn, a tear slipped across my face and landed on the floor. The voice is very clear. That is, missing is spreading ... or those bottomless eyes without focal length. Time, when did it become so desolate? -but, who is it, desolate years?
Time is an elegy, which sings the deep feelings of a generation and shed the blood and tears of a generation.
Grandma is ninety this year. Every time I go to see her, she always finds it difficult to tell who I am accurately, so she falters and says whose baby this is. Even forgot his age. I can understand the forgetfulness of an old man who has lived for nearly a hundred years. After all, there are too many trivial things in his life for many years, and the years are so long. But strangely, she always wears a pair of shallow black shoes and never forgets to wrap her three-inch golden lotus tightly. That scene really showed me the old society.
Mom said she bought socks for grandma and a pair of bigger ones, which grandma really didn't want to wear. So my mother went to the children's shop and bought a pair of pure white socks. Grandma happily put on them and put on her little cloth shoes. I said she was stubborn, and my mother said she was old, so she thought. Yes, that's it. A 90-year-old man has lived to this day, and now she doesn't understand those high-tech gadgets that are updated quickly. Then her little feet may become the only physical evidence that she conforms to her own time. I don't care how unfair it was to the society at that time. Grandma took it as her moderns's sustenance, which contained too many memories and the past, as if it were her gateway to the past. Behind that door is her love and yearning, her grievances and bitterness, her blood and tears, an era that she can never give up. After all, she has too much disappointment and helplessness. A dying old man in "I will walk until the water blocks my way" may have the courage to sit and watch the clouds rising in Ran Ran with a pair of little feet cultivated in the old society.
Grandma lived so long that she forgot her name and birthday, but she remembered to put on her shoes and socks. Perhaps it is too lonely, too nostalgic, or perhaps it is the feeling that life is about to die. She clings to the imprint of that era, just like the grass swaying in the strong wind, clinging to the ground tightly. That is her persistence in life and her guardian of culture. Because she loves it so much, it is destined to be the backbone of her life.
Time is an elegy, which accumulates too many heavy emotions. Culture is a eulogy, which tells us something, that yearning is too heavy, too heavy. ...
The gift of years is the falling of meteorites in the sky. Although it was only a moment, it left the most beautiful arc and rooted the good memories between you and me in my heart.
My friend, do you know why we met? Do you know why we met? This can only be said to be a gift from time to time. I will send you to my side, laugh with me, feel sad with me, and travel around the world with us ... we will never leave, we swore, remember? Even if the promise is repeated a thousand times, our friendship will not change, because you will always be by my side. ...
My dearest friend, do you still remember when we walked in the park together in elementary school, singing with insects, jumping with flowers and listening to them tell us the joy and happiness in our hearts? We stood side by side under a big tree, hand in hand, back to back. It was autumn and the ground was covered with yellow leaves. From a distance, it is a good autumn watercolor painting. Sometimes, leaves fall from trees and gently fall on our heads. Leaves are afraid that people will feel sad in autumn, so they are beautifully dressed and decorated in every corner. We look up at the sky, see the white clouds, hum songs and enjoy the autumn wind. This photo is so good. Can we stay here?
Do you still remember, my friend? We like to play with water in the crystal clear stream, float on each other and throw water at others. That kind of chasing and fighting is the most precious memory of our childhood. This memory seems to have happened yesterday. On that day, I said to you, "Let's accept our fate at the end of next summer." When you heard this, your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Finally, you broke through that line of defense and couldn't help but flow out. When I watch you cry, my heart is trembling, my nose is aching, and I cry with you. Even then, I always told myself to be strong, but in the end I couldn't restrain my feelings. ...
Calling for Song one after another, how many days do we have? Time is like a song, like a beautiful song. The passage of time has brought gifts to each of us, and you, my friend, are a gift from heaven, and they have all become precious wealth on our life path.
The long river of years has washed away too many past events, but it still leaves a faint fragrance in my memory, which is warm and unforgettable.
The flower market in early spring is soaked in the fragrance of flowers and plants. I walked aimlessly, but I smelled the unique fragrance of jasmine. Following this fragrance, I came to this flower shop.
The flower shop is small in appearance, but it is surrounded by people who buy flowers. I can vaguely hear the voice and hearty laughter of Grandpa Hong Zhong, who sells flowers. Several pots of jasmine are in full bloom, attracting many people to visit.
At this time, a little girl came out of the flower shop with a jasmine flower she just bought, and her face was filled with a happy smile. After a while, I heard something in the crowd. Grandpa pushed the crowd away and walked out of the flower shop. Only then did I see the grandfather selling flowers clearly. He held a pot of jasmine in his hand, his weather-beaten face was clearly engraved with wrinkles, his hair was gray, but his eyes showed anxiety. He looked around, caught up with a customer with jasmine, glanced into his bag and shook his head in disappointment. He hurriedly said "I'm sorry" and ran to another customer. People waiting to buy flowers looked at each other, and some shook their heads impatiently and left.
Suddenly, the old man walked up to the little girl, looked at the jasmine in the bag and suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. He handed the pot of jasmine in his hand to the little girl and said kindly, "The pot you just took will wither in a few days. It's not worth spending so much money. " Sure enough, the petal edge of the jasmine pot is a little yellow and looks listless. The little girl nodded and took the jasmine, with a smile on her face. Several customers who were about to leave saw this scene and couldn't help but stop and cast a favorable look at the old man.
Grandpa happily returned to the flower shop, and Hong Zhong-like cries attracted more customers. I carefully took the pot of jasmine in grandpa's hand. There are still a few flowers and bones hidden in the dark green leaves, but they have given off a fragrance, like a warm current, flowing in my heart and memory.
Years and months flow like water, diluting many past events. That bunch of jasmine still exudes fragrance, fragrance and warmth, flowing quietly in the long river of years.
I still remember that day-20xx years x months x days.
At that time, I was still in primary school and had to go home alone every day. Although the distance is not very far, every time I see my classmates go home, I always have my parents with me. I feel a little uncomfortable. How I wish I could hold my father's hand and go home together!
It rained heavily that day. From morning till night, until school was over, the rain didn't stop, but it rained harder and harder. Standing under the eaves, looking at the sky, dark clouds are squeezing the sky, masking the scarlet just now, as if it were going to collapse, as if the whole world were silent. The cold wind shuttled rapidly, leaving people exclaiming. The delicate flowers and grass have been trembling and kneeling on the ground. Heavy rain falls from the sky, the wind chases the rain, the rain chases the wind, and the wind and rain unite to chase the dark clouds in the sky, and the whole world is in the rain. The strong wind rolled the heavy rain like countless whips, hitting the glass window hard.
After waiting for a while, I was desperate and my father could not appear. I dragged my tired body and mind home. There is a wide dividing line between the school and the road, and now there is a small pond. I have to cross this long river. Just when I was at my wit's end, my father appeared.
He is wearing a suit and shoes. His clothes are a little messy and there is a lot of mud on his shoes. He looks anxious and a little embarrassed. But at this point, I think he is so great! I stood there, my heart full of doubts. Father came, and he asked me to climb on his back, trying to hug me. I was dreaming, but I woke up immediately and grinned. The smile is fleeting. I saw my father's white hair. I didn't know it before, but now I find that there are so many. My father worked hard day and night for this family, but I thought my father didn't love me, so he refused to pick me up from school. How can I be so ignorant? I feel that tears are about to overflow my eyes. When I close my eyes, I really have two lines of tears. The rain mixed with tears fell on my father's white hair, which looked real and unreal, as if laughing at my ignorance and naivety. Touch them gently with your hand and say, "Dad, I love you." Father is healthy.
14 years old, I look back on the past years, those warm days, you spent with me.
"Quick, quick, quick! Come on, come on! " "Never mind, I'm here!" "Don't be discouraged, let's come together!" Familiar words still reverberate in my ears, but once happiness has become a memory, leaving only a vague face in my mind, a figure sweating like rain on the football field, and a tearful smile when I left. The name "Sun Shuao" is getting farther and farther away from me, leaving only a vague figure in my mind.
In those years, when I was a naive child, we knew each other. At that time, we were innocent, talking about cartoons together, telling the troubles of homework, and even discussing each other's mothers. In our eyes, everything in the world seems so beautiful and happy. Every time I call him by his nickname: "Little Monkey"! He always laughs, and then smiles and responds: "Fat pig"! We are happy together, sad together and crazy together. No one can compare with us! At that time, we were too young to just think about how to find happiness, but I clearly knew that the person who accompanied me in front of me was my best friend-a person who understood me best.
"Sun Shuao", a person who cares about me and comforts me when I am depressed; A person who is caring and attentive when I am sick; A person who was the first to lend a helping hand when I was in trouble; He doesn't have to be humorous, clever or rich. At least he is willing to accompany me through this journey.
But it's over, not now. Those happy days have become memories, from the mutual companionship in those days to the intermittent contact now. Sun Shuao's transfer has had a great impact on us. We can't change this fact, but we are getting more and more depressed. I hope one day he can come back to relive the happiness of the past and miss those sweet times together.
Memories pieced together my wonderful childhood, and scenes of the past emerged in front of me. Looking up at the starry sky and remembering those shining days, tears soaked my eyes. When all the good things are washed away by time, I would like to take you as that star and accompany me to recall those days when we lived.
I finished this winter in. Dark, sticky and cold. At the end of February, it finally stopped snowing in the new town. Suddenly, a few extra rays of sunshine quietly wiped away the water on the land. I thought the expected spring was coming. However, I think this is wrong. The subsequent cooling alarm and cold rain ruthlessly swept away the hope in my heart again, and then silently shattered it.
I was in the country that day and mourned my grandmother's body that day. I followed the grand funeral procession in the country, and my heart was cold. I remember when it was just dawn, I secretly took my mother's mobile phone, removed the battery and installed my own card. Open it. The bright light reflected on the screen, and the room was wet and cold. Grandma's body quietly stopped outside several tile houses. The sky is blue-gray, like a cracked green fruit. The four fields have a clean but moist smell peculiar to the fields. There is a rooster crowing. The sky began to turn white. I silently wrote her a message saying that my mobile phone newspaper was invalid. Besides, grandma went to the funeral today.
My mobile phone fell into the water the other day and slipped in gently. My hands were covered with foam and I was washing clothes. I didn't use hot water, and my hands were shaking with cold. After washing for a long time, my hands always don't work. Finally, I missed it and watched it slide in, emitting a little bubble. But I don't have the strength to take it out
I lost contact with her and sat alone in the cold and sticky land in the country. The sun finally rose, people began to open the door and there was a noise. Everything was quarrelling unconsciously. It was not until my body was gently lifted that I silently followed the team like a rude awakening. The pain in my heart suddenly broke through my chest and dissipated in the cold wind at the moment I stood up.
My grandmother. 10 years ago, she and I sat under this tree to enjoy the cool, and she pulled my hair to show an old smile; Ten days ago, she suffered from an illness, and a pair of pale hands buckled the edge of the bed; Ten hours ago, she looked at me with tears in her eyes, and then her eyes slowly faded; Ten seconds ago, she was lifted by several stout men, and her last body will disappear without leaving any trace.
It turns out that human life is such a fragile thing. From birth to death. Everything is short. Very short.
She didn't reply to me for nearly an hour, not long, probably just waking up. She doesn't talk much, just two simple words: I understand.
On the first day of New Year's Day, composition 8 "Tick-tock, tick-tock ……" Small water drops are beating the stone bit by bit; "Hua, Hua ..." Xiao Yu merged into the embrace of the earth; "sasha vujacic, sasha vujacic ..." Autumn wind blows the leaves; "Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock But we can't stop the passage of time. Moment after moment, silence.
We can smell the refreshing flowers, see the deep footprints on the land, and hear the eternal legends ... but what about the years? What about this magical magician? We can't touch, see or hear. I have asked myself countless times: What did I do at the last second? What did I do yesterday? What did I do today? I'm very clear and vague. We can never keep time. I don't know whether the first few years were happy or sad, nor whether the next few days were lucky or unlucky. Anything can happen. Although I don't know, looking back, I find that many people have been making unremitting efforts; Looking back, I found many people standing behind you silently; Looking back, I found myself growing from babbling to being a middle school student. In the passage of time, in memory, in the vision of the future gradually grow up. ......
Yesterday has become history. Whether it is good or bad, it is an experience. No matter glory or glory, no matter loss or trough, don't be discouraged. Although there is no trace of time, it is by your side. We can walk with shadows and years. Let the years have no regrets. Try to cherish time.
From now on, be confident and spend every second meaningfully. We can prove by actions that "water drops wear away the stone" is immortal. Even if we can't change the trace of time and the degree of its passing, we can change ourselves. Interpret the sweetness of life candy. You will find that time flies, but it has not gone far. ......
Dream of time and years, seize opportunities and opportunities. Record the beautiful moments with the camera, and the years walk silently with you. ......
The shallow sunshine and the look of the old friend are just right. May the years be quiet and the people be safe.
How can youth and frivolity reach Japan? It's like youth is ridiculous, but no one chooses to surrender.
I remember you saying to me, "Hey, let me run amok in your youth. If I can't do it all my life, it will be in your best and most beautiful youth. "
At that time, I was careless, "OK, do you need me to give you a pass?"
The whole classroom echoed with cheerful laughter, echoing in that youth, and now I am thinking, this kind of youth is really good.
At that time, we always went with the flow, or indulged, or arrogant, or unruly, or noisy. I grew up with it in time and experienced my own story, including the opening song and the ending song, producer and director. As the protagonist, I have to come safely and calmly, even if there is a solid wall to stop me.
But what I want to learn is not just knowing, but the culprit who destroyed this wall and blocked many people's roads. I believe that this is not the end, but the starting point.
Youth cannot be hidden for long. What is this? A flower waiting to bloom overwhelmed the crowd? A huge and prosperous movie that everyone expects?
It should be more like the pupa of a butterfly, which is the most beautiful stage.
Nirvana rebirth is the only goal worth achieving when you are young. Many people on the Internet say that youth comes only once in a lifetime. I hope you can treat it well. Yes, the innocent age of that flower season, the time of looking forward to firmness, is stable and energetic, and it is worth everyone's serious and regretless spending.
I believe that no one is willing to live up to his youth, let alone choose decadence in his youth. Therefore, everyone is working hard, and I will work hard and stick to it, no matter whether the result is good or bad.
Youth should get up after setbacks, not afraid of the thorns ahead, but also need to wait for the process of transformation, not arrogant and unhurried.
Some people say, "If the most beautiful part of a person on the whole stage, it must be ignorant youth."
Writing on the first day of the New Year 10 is another golden autumn season. With longing for junior high school life, I entered middle school and came to No.8 Middle School. She is the first teacher I met in class after I became a student in No.8 Middle School. Meeting her in the lush years changed my youth. ...
That day, she wore a black polka-dot dress and walked into the classroom with a smile, like a lotus flower. Looking closely, she is not tall, slightly plump, and always has a charming and bright smile on her white face. Speak softly and patiently in class. The word "broad-minded and fat" should be used to describe her. She would put some biscuits in my hand during the break when I didn't have breakfast; Will come to my side when I rack my brains to come up with a difficult problem, and bend down patiently to analyze and explain it to me; Will hold my hand and tell me her youth story when I am worried about my youth. There are many gentle teachers, and few teachers never lose their temper.
I don't know why, but I didn't like math very much before. Since she became my math teacher, I have developed a strong interest in math. It seems that all problems can be solved by listening to her class; Talk to her, and all your troubles will disappear.
I really don't know her very well. I used to think that I would have to teach me for three years anyway, and I still have plenty of time, so I can get to know it slowly. But in the third year, we re-divided classes. Only then did I know that everything came so quickly, so suddenly, and suddenly there was a sense of guilt and regret. In her eyes, I may be a hard-working child, but in fact, I am serious. My efforts are only for her, in order to leave a good impression in her heart.
When I meet her in the lush years, I won't get lost in the youth station in my life journey. It is she who let me accumulate strength in the bud and bloom better in the future.
It's good to meet her in the lush years!
On the first day of the year, the composition 1 1 is bright yellow, orange, orange, bright red ... We use warm colors to spread our youth. Here, there is our persistence, our unruly, and the flash of our wisdom. This is our gorgeous youth; These are our energetic years!
In the evening, we run on the court covered with light orange sunshine. This difficult counterattack, we go all out.
White jerseys fluttered in the wind, and brown-red basketball drew a beautiful arc in the air. We sweat like rain, tighten the lines on our faces and let the sweat drip freely.
The score gap is narrowing, and it has been narrowing. Come on, comrades! Dribble, feint, lift, shoot ... yes! Oh, this beautiful three points. Cheers sounded. As soon as the whistle blows, the game is over.
Come on, three points! We smiled at each other, turned over for this salted fish, and remained calm for this hard pursuit and persistence.
The orange light permeates the sky and reflects on the white jersey, which is our mighty shirt to return to glory!
On a bright summer afternoon, under the "whirring" fan in the classroom, no one is watching singing. Out of tune, it doesn't matter; Forget words, it doesn't matter; It doesn't matter if you can't keep up with the beat. We are singing our own flavor with great interest, which is better than the noisy cicadas on the playground trees outside the window. We use the simplest voice, the most clumsy but extremely beautiful tone, and do our best to sing energetic youth. Our youth, sing your own songs and let others speak!
Quiet promenade, quiet bench, quiet us. Leaning against the window, turning the pages of youth with youthful fingers. Tilt your head, stare silently, think silently. Let thoughts stir in the article and feelings wander in the text. We record our hopes, longings, troubles and happiness in our palms. Waiting, spring in the palm of your hand. This is the vitality of our wisdom, and this is the vitality of our thinking.
Seriously study ink and write our noble youth; Plus self-deduction, spectrum belongs to our energetic years!
You and I may have experienced many vicissitudes in the first day of the lunar new year 12, but apart from the time in the cape, you and I are still crystal clear, sitting side by side on the steps of that corridor. Years have brought us from strangers to friends who can call each other by their names at will and have deep friendship. Song is the first day of my own song in the past three years, an ignorant song; The next day, I reflected on Song of Awakening. On the third day, the song of pulsating progress.
In the third year of leaving, my mind was blank, not because I had no feelings for junior high school these three years, but because too many memories were pouring out and I didn't know where to start.
I still remember the excitement when I first reported to my class, which is still fresh in my mind. Because of the good grades in primary school, the scores in the placement exam are not bad! The teacher talked to me alone, and I was happy for a long time! The vanity of teenagers is so vividly displayed! I not only have confidence in my heart, but also have obvious pride out of thin air! I have been on cloud nine this semester, both objectively and subjectively! Because of my madness, my score in the first monthly exam dropped by more than ten places, and then it became worse and worse.
Fortunately, my ignorance did not last until the second day of junior high school; Fortunately, I have a very strict class teacher, because his severity makes me reflect and alert. Under the severe education and criticism of the head teacher, I will be dissatisfied, but when I get home, my family compares me with my sister with good grades and says that I am useless, and my self-esteem is greatly hit. So, I have changed, and I have become much quieter from that crazy quarrel. The results of the first monthly exam in the second day of junior high school went down and up again, which made me see hope again!
After awakening, I seem to understand the importance of grade three. In the third grade, just like running on the track and field, I was so tired that I wanted to throw myself on the ground directly, but the students who came behind seemed to chase me mercilessly, so I had to take another hard step. Pulse and forge ahead!
Time is like a song. As the name implies, time is like a song. It flows from the calm Song Like to the passionate Song Like sea. Time has had ebbs, climaxes, joys and sorrows. My three-year junior high school life is like a song, so complete! No regrets!
Today is Saturday, which is more meaningful than my previous Saturday. Because today, my classmates and I came to Shijingshan Park to do outdoor sports.
At two o'clock, I arrived at the gate of Shijingshan Park. The gate is already crowded with people. It seems that I have been waiting for a long time. The students gathered in small groups to talk about something, which seemed to cast a mysterious veil over Shijingshan and my heart. I couldn't help being excited for the first time and couldn't wait to leave.
Finally, at half past two, we set foot on the road up the mountain. Our goal is the "fishing wife" on the top of the mountain. Legend has it that he is the husband of a fisherman's girl, and all kinds of legends have strengthened my determination to climb the top of the mountain. ...
With great efforts, I finally climbed to the top of the mountain and met the legendary fisherman's wife. His name is Haipeng. I saw a statue of him, holding a trident in his right hand and blowing a conch in his left. People can't help but wonder how bravely he went out to sea to fish. Looking further to the left, it is our "hometown of hundreds of islands"-Zhuhai. Islands surround Zhuhai, and stars arch the moon, making Zhuhai more beautiful.
Back at the foot of the mountain, we found a treasure trove of geomantic omen and began to write a composition. I saw a towering tree rising from the ground next to it, as if it were soaring into the sky, showing its greatness to the world, and as if it were showing off its lofty height and flourishing leaves. But few people can think that it was only a small sapling decades ago … more than a hundred years ago. No one knows that it can grow into a towering tree. Maybe a heavy rain or a typhoon will mercilessly break its delicate body. But no matter how others look down on it, despise it and even trample on it, it has not given up. It desperately absorbs the only nutrients and sunlight and sprints towards unknown heights. It doesn't know what the road ahead is and what the ending is. It just keeps climbing. Day after day, year after year. Finally, with its firm confidence and unremitting efforts, it ushered in sunshine and success.
Isn't this kind of unremitting efforts and unswerving heart exactly what we need? Now is the moment when we need to work hard. Although the road ahead is difficult and confusing, we still have to struggle and sprint with unshakable faith, and one day we will usher in the dawn of hope.
The scenery of the years is just right! Next to this towering tree, among the rocks, I saw several young saplings full of vitality, growing tenaciously.