Time flies, where is the teenager with bright eyes in the depths of memory? Time goes by, may everything be as good as you see for the first time.
The fire is burning in July, the summer is getting cooler in August, and the cold in September is raging. Now that October is coming, winter is not far away, is it?
When I went back to school, stepping on the blood road rendered by the setting sun, I found that the continuous light was blocked by Yifu Building. It seemed that the dream was hidden behind the tall floor, thinking that that was the place where the dream rose. When I entered, I found that Qianyang was attached to the Ink Xishan farther away. The Shaw Building, which thinks it carries countless dreams, is just a tip of temporary habitat. The building is so dark, so cool, so dark, and a large area of darkness is pressing down everywhere. I don't know whether the darkness envelops us or whether we hold back the darkness.
At the end of August, we changed classrooms, the battlefield of Jingotiema, the ancient and young talent building, silent, arrogant, looking at us lazily. Some left, leaving with glory and dreams, while others came to the appointment with longing and persistence. After seven o'clock every morning, watching the tired warriors sleeping at the desk in the classroom, what spreads in the air is not the unruly of youth, but helplessness, tiredness and piety for dreams. Indeed, sleep, holidays, and even illness in the third year of high school are all luxurious things. Empty eyes are full of blood, there is no need to explain until the lights dimmed to conquer that math problem last night, right? Once unruly, young and frivolous have been grinding off the edges of time, originally love and hate righteous indignation, we become easygoing and even secular.
So, we learn to be quiet, hide in the corner and work hard, for fear that a slackness will be surpassed and discarded, there is no war to sell cigarettes, and there are only vows that swallow thousands of miles like a tiger. 18-year-old, senior high school, university, dream, reality flow quietly around, and finally spread into a thread into a fleeting time. We hurriedly walked in the twilight and went to the next one, so the years were like Bowen in the pond, glittering and dazzling for a moment, and then a circle of dizzy dye, gradually faded and dispersed.
Live well, because we will die for a long time, it is true that death is not a terrible thing, life and death is reasonable, there is still a twilight, death is like wearing clothes and eating, fine powder, permeating every inch of texture, no matter how small, no matter how small, no matter how noble life will eventually be lost in the dust, turned into a wave of wind scattered around the world.
Life can not always be satisfactory, every day seems to exist chic, hard, tired self-evident, but everyone wants to live, greedily thinking, just because life is so beautiful, there are so many people who love us in this world, the people we love, we have so many things to do, so many things waiting for us to do, how can we be willing to leave? Our desires are often in the hands of others, so we must succumb to compromise, and give in to the willingness to compromise, such as college entrance examinations, such as universities.
June always comes, can not escape, when the dream of youth will be ransacked, people palpitation and abhorrent season, dreams are sewn into reality, dense, pathways, parting such as war, in the inexplicable confrontation into white-hot, do not know what to say, do not know what to say, the final year of high school is watching the end of the parting drama, right? If you talk too much, it will hurt.
Even if the dream shines into the reality full of desolation, try, adhere to, brave will not regret it? In the coming year, what kind of mood will we have when we look back at this period of vigorous fleeting time when we are prosperous and decaying? Like falling flowers, we transform in gorgeous withering again and again, and finally blossom a tree quietly.
The classroom is on the second floor, there is always a group of people standing in the corridor at recess, looking not far away, the green football field is showing off wantonly, stimulating every active nerve, always thinking that standing high can be closer to the sun and closer to the dream.
It rained for several days in a row, the air was sticky and boring, and I always felt empty and secure when I cycled carefully on the wet ground every day, and finally the big sunshine opened up a series of sunflower. Bright, thin, sad, bright, as well as our senior three.
September 16, Thursday, afternoon, the last class, physical education, attractive words, finally saw the gorgeous youth on the basketball court, sweat dripping, broken into sporadic crystals, shining, should be like this, the title page of youth should be full of arrogance!
Meet parting, endure pain, flash away, unforgettable, youth is not self-righteous strong, there are always some people passing by in life, smile at you, and then walk away, finally the wind is light and the clouds are light. We can always learn something about friendship, youth, life.
Like this sentence: we are not gods, can not grow what everyone wants to look like. Do not in order to cater to the original clean and lovely oneself, ABCD always have to choose, choose the most suitable for their own way, do not care about other people's rumors such as the wind. I first saw the words of Xiao Si three years ago: they all say that Fudan's notice is like a marriage certificate, so I want to say: Fudan I love you, let's get married! Feel rebellious and humorous enough, now it seems that the filling is full of helplessness, if I can also shout + university I love you, shall we get married? Ha ha, the third year of high school is like a sleeping baby, clever, quiet, in a contest about scores, our third year of high school, our youth will grow up, refuse wilting.
After the gardenia blossoms in the next season, where should we put our thoughts about the third year of senior high school? In the end, it will be annihilated under the torrent of time, right? Quietly, drifting away.
If only life were as beautiful as summer flowers? May you have a good time.
Friend: written by Yun er
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