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There is a world invisible to adults in children's eyes. Their eyes are full of color, blue and clear, like glass, emitting desirable brilliance.
Our friendship is blue, and it is this blue that brings us closer. The late summer of 2005 was the season when we first met. You've been sitting alone in your seat, and your skin has been white since childhood. You look clean, just like Bai Lianhua, spotless.
After we met, we were in the same class for seven years, and in the last two years, we became good friends as before and after the table. It is the rebellious period of the third grade, and we always run to the "secret base" on the rest day. In fact, it is an old park, surrounded by residential buildings, mostly elderly people, who will come out after lunch or take a walk or exercise. We usually sit in the car and chat with a group of old people. In the autumn afternoon, we ate spicy chicken feet bought from the shop next door, but still smiled at each other. You said, "You ruined my lady image."
When we were young, our eyes shone with blue glass.
Our friendship has always been blue, and we hope it will always be blue. After two years of happiness, we are not in the same class. We haven't agreed on anything yet, but it seems that we have agreed on everything. When you are too lazy to do your homework, I say to you, "Don't come to visit me if you can't get into college." You will laugh silly, and then turn over your homework. When we were shopping, you said to me in front of an exquisite boutique, "I want to open a store like this when I grow up. How free it is." I hit you in front of you. "It takes money and foresight." Later, he said, "If you want me to invest, maybe I will send it from you." We made an appointment to go to college together, and we also daydreamed about our amateur dreams.
We are young, with our blue friendship, and we are walking happily. The future may be windy and muddy, but our dreams and our blue friendship remain the same.
Whose face is like the lotus in memory, which makes beauty flow into the heart and leaves the blue in memory.
A smiling flower is a silent and beautiful mood in life.
"Gardenia blossoms, like crystal waves in my heart, like light youth and pure love." The white gardenia is waiting in vain, looking at the beautiful care in life. Youth is brilliant from now on. Although speechless, but affectionate, the moment I walked in was like walking into the depths of the season and never giving up love.
It is another beautiful spring season, and the gardenias on campus are in full bloom again, adding a touch of spring to the beautiful campus. This holy gardenia is the fragrance of youth and a beautiful glimpse of a beautiful life, which has attracted thousands of surprised eyes and admiration on campus.
People praised the gardenia tree loudly, attracting a group of bees and butterflies to dance on it. For spring, it adds a watery tenderness and infinite fragrance to the campus.
Teachers can't escape the temptation of gardenia. Whenever gardenias are in full bloom, teachers will come to watch the magic of gardenias. Some people can't help but pick some flowers and put them in their heads. This simple gardenia is dotted with the unpretentious life of teachers. Gardenia makes their lives radiant and their youth colorful.
The teacher put the picked gardenias in a vase, just like planting the flowers of the soul in the leaves of life, and the faint fragrance drifted away with the wind.
Maybe the teacher wanted to keep gardenia for himself, and they all banned the students, but we still couldn't help being infected with gardenia, and its fragrance floated into our hearts, making my wonderful childhood brilliant. We took it off on the charge of "stealing", and our schoolbags and desks became gardenia camps. They make the classroom fragrant and add a tender feeling to our hearts.
Mom also fell in love with gardenia. She picked a bunch of gardenias from somewhere. She waters and fertilizes diligently, irrigates with sincerity and nourishes with true feelings. Time flies like water. One year, gardenias blossomed 20 times, which filled us with happiness, joy and fragrance.
I slowly picked 20 gardenias and gave them to my neighbors. Let people share the joy of harvest and faint tenderness and fragrance.
This holy gardenia is the biggest touch of life in spring. It lights up the world and the tenderness of a sleeping life.
Ten thousand years is like the light of running water, and I can't take away a moment of watching like a flower. I use the feeling of falling flowers to taste the blooming life.
The afterglow of the rising sun and the setting sun is always more touching, because their mellow brilliance fills the extreme edge of the noon sun. -inscription
In class, the teacher did an experiment. The glass bottle is full of stones, and it seems that the space has reached its limit and is supplemented by sand and water. In this regard, a student hit the nail on the head: "Many things seem to have reached the limit, but there is still a lot of room." So is the bottle of life.
Everything in the bottle is wild.
"One thing can tell that a teenager is crazy", and wildness is a bottle full of life and colored stones in our youth. That is the bluestone inscribed by Du Fu: "Climb to the top of the mountain, and you will see that all other mountains look short under the sky." It was Li Bai who put it in, and a flaming cloud was painted on the stone: "Oh, how can I solemnly bow and scrape to those people with high status and important positions? They never want to be seen with an honest face." It was Chen Ziang who filled the bottle with pebbles: "I think of heaven and earth, with no limit and no end. I was alone and my tears fell." Their bottles of life are full of angular stones, and their blood is boiling with wild rapids, which set off waves of literature and life, making the bottles of life tend to the limit.
Thinking about the contents of the bottle
High tide means low tide. Yu said: "Only things that are not publicized and encouraged can last for a long time. When wild stones adapt to each other's edges and corners, thoughts flow into the cracks of the bottle of life like sand. Shi Tiesheng, put the sand in his rut into the rubble. The afterglow on the stone gate of the altar reflects the moment when young people think alone. In this ancient garden full of fatalism, the sand of thinking, shining with golden light, shines in the bottle of life and death, which is something that need not be realized in a hurry and a festival that is bound to come. Shi Tiesheng's bottle of life is full of sands of direct thinking, and the rut next to Cooper is gradually reaching its limit.
The contents of the bottle are ripe.
Many things seem to have reached the limit, but there is still a lot of room. Dongpo discovered this. After the wildness of youth and the thinking of middle age, he finally matured. Return to "Lonely Dongpo is a Sick Man". He was indifferent to Zhi Ming, and from then on he got the mature essence of "only the breeze in the river, the bright moon in the mountains, listening and seeing". This essence is like the brilliance of the moon, and clear water permeates into the bottle of life. Let the real limit gradually improve, and let the bottle of life be more perfect.
The brilliant circle of the setting sun filled the edge of the hot sun. Wild life seems to be full of bottles of life, and thinking and achievements have successively supplemented the living space that seems to have reached its limit. The filling of these spaces makes the moon more round and life more complete and complete!
A ray of sunshine pierced the dark gap, so there was freshness and vitality in the gap. Similarly, a listening seat allows the mind to fly over the empty wings, so the mind will be ethereal and refreshing.
I used to wander in a corner where I couldn't hear the wind, sucking the rain, thinking that it was enough to hear my breath between heaven and earth, day and night, so I refused the sunshine. The humid air mottled my wandering rope with long green leaves overnight, as if I had walked into a dense dream, but the cotton wool finally contained warm tears. I remember a long time ago, I ran like a lion on the delicate cinder runway with open arms, and the runway exuded a simple and profound fragrance like a wide seaweed. Maybe it's my own negligence. For a while, grades became my only lifeline. The playground that has been ravaged by wind and rain for a season is as dazzling as cellophane, but I feel like an island, struggling on my own road and braving the wind and rain. All the pimples are cocooned on my feet, all the clouds are stagnant on my chest, and all the sweat is wrinkled on my skin. But what happened? Step by step leads to confusion, as if along the way. The raised sand buried the lonely footprints behind him, but the front was also confused and afraid.
Like a fallen leaf dancing in the wind, I bowed my head for the first time, always proud. I came to the river, listening to the running water telling the lost time, but the fish diving into the water could no longer pick up those complicated memories, so the reeds in the small rope rippled in the water, and the water time was not as colorful as yesterday.
Back in the classroom, the wings of the night have covered the earth, and the teacher came with a candle. For the first time, I found that her smile is so sweet, just like coffee. For an instant, my space seemed to be shattered. She sat down and told me a lot. She told me that only by putting aside the so-called aura can we integrate into the collective and feel everyone's love for you. Why do you have to pretend to be self-reliant and keep people away? Sometimes I believe I may be conceited.
That sleepless night, I realized my fatigue and sadness, and I had to admit that I was trapped in a dark cave, and it was a rattan rope hanging from my teacher that saved me.
My mental journey tells me that sometimes in a cave where you can't climb out even if you dig your fingers, the dead vine hanging on others may be your lifeline. Grab it!
Selected essays on self-improvement in Senior Two: The piano is broken!
Grandpa has a lyre, a painted body and a python's belly. After playing the piano for decades, it broke under grandpa's thick nail plate.
Grandpa has been moping for a long time. According to grandma, grandpa went all over the concert hall and musical instrument store in the county town, and he couldn't find a master who could repair the sanxian. I looked at my grandfather with a cigarette in his hand. He seemed to be much older.
When my father heard that the lyre was broken, he traveled all over the neighboring counties and finally found a master who made the lyre in a bamboo forest. Grandpa got the letter and took me there at once.
Teacher Fu's surname is Bai, his temples are gray, his beard is very long, and he looks several years older than his grandfather. Grandpa felt happy and radiant when he saw the master.
"Master, can this little sanxian still be used?"
"Don't worry, don't worry, your piano skills are exquisite, and it will be fine in a few days." Master Bai turned and took out a sanxian. "Well, I just have one here. I haven't played for a few days. Are you afraid of technical itching? "
At the sight of the three sages, there was light in grandpa's eyes. He gently took the piano, set the bench, sat down, posed, and gave us a string.
"The big fellow prime minister returned to Tianze, and this Shu Han is even going to die ..."
At the end of the song, the original cheerful "The History of the Three Kingdoms" tanci actually had a tragic taste, and the long word "death" was particularly harsh.
Master Bai also made peace temporarily. "Dude, people like you are rare now!" He pointed to his grandfather who didn't play with bamboo.
"It was a hard year, and it was very practical to support my family with the piano."
Grandpa stayed at Master Bai's house for three days. After taking the piano, he was seriously ill. By the time I met my grandfather, he was already full of pipes. Grandma said it was stomach trouble. When I was young, I played and sang everywhere.
Master Bai came to see grandpa early, muttered for a while, and took grandpa's piano away.
When I saw Master Bai again, Grandpa had already passed away. The master gave me two sanxian: "What does he care?" Poor workmanship! "
I suddenly understood the reason why grandpa insisted on living in the country. Presumably, it was only there that he still had his boyhood dreams and the last audience of Sanxian.
I touched my grandfather's piano and put it on the wall shelf to commemorate the youth I have never played in my life.