A quarter of my university (inscription-drifting away and becoming silent, where can I find a rich fish? The flow of time is a kind of mourning. But it's another year in a blink of an eye. I once had the idea of studying law+the college entrance examination score was not very low, but it was embarrassing+yearning for the city of Beijing = I dragged my luggage into China University of Political Science and Law after a night of speeding. The university of senior three is unknown to me. I haven't even thought about what kind of university I want to go to, what kind of major I want to study, and what kind of myself I want to find in that place called Pure Land and Promised Land. Secretly miss packing all my luggage. Without an electric fan, the dormitory is very stuffy. The summer that Beijing is about to leave is inciting the high temperature to do the final ravages. On the second night of sleeping in the dormitory, I secretly cried, facing the wall. It turns out that I am still a little girl who has not grown up and can't leave home. I have a strong sense of loneliness at the thought that my parents have left Beijing by train. I have been eager to fly by myself, and my shoulders are still so weak. However, can I miss my tender shoulders and grind them into strong cocoons? On the third day of school, I visited the campus for the first time, only to find that the leaves had begun to fall. After a groggy English test, I was dragged to the military training base by the school bus and started my college life at the foot of the ancient Great Wall. On the journey from Changping to Yanqing, I have been staring out of the window, looking at the abrupt ridge and thinking about the gentle rolling hills of my hometown. Then I started my first collective life. Training during the day, cleaning the house, playing songs at night, chatting with classmates in the dormitory. I didn't expect the temperature difference in Beijing in September to be so big. During the day, the sun shines directly on the ground for at least 30 degrees. After ten o'clock in the evening, you should wrap some clothes and walk out of the dormitory. Have fun in pain. I remember that after the school condolence performance on the Mid-Autumn Festival, I waited in line to make a phone call until almost everyone fell asleep. A bright moon hung high above the ancient Great Wall, and I wore camouflage clothes to send my blessing to my family for the first time in a different place. I always feel that this is a wonderful blend of time and space, giving me a beautiful scene that I will never forget. Ten days later, when the school bus drove us out of the gate of the military training base, I deliberately looked back. It may be melodramatic, but there may be no second chance to come to such a place in this life. In fact, the club I failed to join has always been a pain in my heart. When the plane leaves began to fall more and more, the new achievements of the community were released one after another. I registered several official clubs, but none of them joined. As far as I can remember, I didn't join a club in high school. I regard this as a formal and credible exam. Very concerned, very concerned. So I began to doubt my ability. After that, I decided to report on the Youth Law University, the group magazine of the school. My senior sister who gave me the registration form said that on the third day after the interview, I went to the door of a canteen to see the red list. I think you can do it. Let's go I'm really happy. I didn't see the posted red list during the day. In the evening, I found an excuse to sneak out with my classmates in the dormitory. In the extremely weak light, I searched carefully for a name along the red list, and the result was still blank. I didn't have any energy to do anything else that night. I feel like I'm falling apart. My pride seems to be torn to pieces. It was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I lost it. I can never say that I worked in the student union. I stopped the tears from overflowing my eyes. Later, I joined the press corps, which helped me a lot, but I still can't forget those clubs that I couldn't enter. After all, in September 2005, when autumn leaves were falling, they were an indelible yearning in my heart. Farming and harvesting Beijing has a long winter. It seems that it has been cold since 1 1 month. The more clothes you wear, the more community work you have. Needless to say, the press corps is very busy. Although I don't like the work in the work-study center very much, I still have to do it. Club work forces me to communicate with others. One day I suddenly found that I wouldn't be too shy in front of strangers. I was surprised myself. Writing a manuscript is boring and time-consuming, and the minister always wants an electronic manuscript. Without a computer, I can only rub around. And at that time, my mind was blank in front of the screen, so I could only write it on paper and then find a computer to type it out. At that time, I would always get up early or go to the English room to type a manuscript without taking a nap. Once, in order to write an interview draft for the senior year of the Insurance Research Institute, I specially asked someone to borrow a notebook. As a result, when I took it back to him, I wiped the mobile phone from my pocket. That silver-gray scooter has become my past forever. Still writing, interview manuscript, literature manuscript, interview manuscript, literature manuscript, ........................................................................................................................................................... began to teach himself crazily. A preparation after the college entrance examination. The feeling of a long-lost exam. You can say that I attach great importance to it. A girl in the dormitory used tarot cards to tell my fortune, saying that I would have a little problem in the exam, so I ran out alone and walked twenty times on the playground at MINUS ten degrees. I feel the cold invading my arm from my fingertips and gradually spreading from my feet to my knees. I felt only a little hot in my chest when I went back. The gap between ideal and reality: The second semester begins, and spring warms bloom. I have great ambitions, and I think I can handle the relationship between clubs and learning, and easily complete all the tasks that should be completed. I think I'm a college student and I shouldn't waste my time. But after a while, I found that saying I can't do it is really my stubborn bad habit. Really, under the pressure of more community work, my inertia began to breed again. To be fair, I spent no more time on my studies this semester than others who missed a professional course. I feel guilty. Computer classes are skipped the most. I will never forget the eyes and expressions of disgust and contempt that the teacher gave me after correcting the examination paper for the first time. A heartfelt fear rose from the original calm heart. This is how I felt after I got a failed test paper in high school. I suddenly feel that time is going backwards. Thinking of the twenty laps I walked last winter, I began to worry that I really couldn't jump out of that strange circle and walk out of that besieged city. Prepare for the exam again, and summer is coming again. To tell the truth, this preparation is not as serious as last semester. I'm disappointed in myself. There are too many specialized courses, and it is far from perfect to rely on the efforts in the last few days. At this time, I suddenly felt that there were similarities between universities and high schools. So I suddenly want to sit down quietly and read a book. But after all, I was not fully prepared and went to the examination room. After the exam, I told myself that no matter what the verdict was, I was reborn. A group of friends in their dormitory, a group of classmates, and a group of ministers and comrades in the community. I can't help but think of the fellow villager who has been giving me a headache, but he is very good and will go to Shandong next semester. Hehe, the wonderful life is also because of these people. In 2006, I heard the footsteps of the college entrance examination and suddenly reacted. I have left high school for a year. My university, like this, lost a quarter. I can't sigh the speed of time. So I dragged my heavy suitcase from Beijing to Hefei overnight and told myself that I had completed one or a quarter of the cycle. The rest is memory and sorting. After returning home, I still walk on the road I walked last year every evening. On both sides of the road are trees I can't name. The flowers on the tree look like red dandelions in the fairy sword. I still looked up at the flowers on the tree, and the afterglow of the sunset plated my side face into a beautiful face. There, I wonder if there are any traces of quarters. (Postscript: That's it, the sadness of crying, the flow of flying, the painful smile, and the rotation of running. Passed away. A quarter of my college. )