Junior high school diary 400 words

I like the wind, the warm and cozy sea breeze in the south, the biting and piercing cold wind in the north, all of them make me sentimental and sentimental and romantic!

However, I prefer the rain, the southern lightning and thunder drifting downpour, the northern pattering autumn rain, all make me sentimental and lingering, so my screen name is rain and wind Li Ren!

I like the rain, like it water like pure, cloud like ethereal, fog like haze . I also like, in the drizzle of dusk, alone, step in the rhythm of the rain, walking in the street; like the rain quietly dripping on the body of the feeling, that is very gentle touch, as if a pair of hands gently take care of me up. Like the rain in the fall, especially the raindrops splashing down on the ground, rioting a splash of that beautiful moment ...... It seems that the songs with rain have sentimental stories, and I listened to the sound of rain on this rainy night and experienced every story with rain. Fresh streets, few pedestrians, very clean, very quiet beauty. A tree on the street after the autumn wind blowing and autumn rain washing, leaves from the branches of the tree one by one floating down, the air a little more serene, deep breath. Autumn plucking heartstrings, autumn wind disturbing thoughts, autumn moon, autumn rain note lingering, autumn leaves floating bleak. Sprinkle to the heart of the sea of tears, long, lingering, also mixed with a few melancholy, revealing a few threads of helplessness, the rain is a cloud of tears of sadness, the heart is always in the clouds of sadness, lonely, lonely crying, deep down is a burst of heart rain. No matter what kind of story, once the rain will be unforgettable. Rain has a kind of magic: it can diffuse into a kind of mood, infiltrate into an atmosphere, engraved into a kind of memory. Of course, sometimes it can also splash into a disaster. Breakups always happen on rainy days, why do they have to happen on rainy days? Rain, when it is cool, rain, when it is gray and cold, rain, when it is heartbreaking.

I don't know when I got addicted to the network in my own world, unwilling to communicate with people. Like in the hustle and bustle of the chat room, quietly stay, like all around are strange names, no one cares about my loneliness. And I, too, is just a trance of shadows, linger in this familiar chat room, let the years, fell in my indifferent eyes.

I like the night, like the night online to write mood, then lonely, belongs entirely to myself. Like in the network to read deep love articles, like to write some sad words, like in the text, to understand a person. I like to listen to my own heart, by the soul of the collision of the connected soul of the vibration of trespass. When my soul, and I silently relative, I finally know, get rid of all the constraints of the world, a light and leisurely leisurely life is not enviable. Not for the world's disturbances, do not compete for fame and fortune, to the taste of life has a more elegant. That "from the flying flowers light as a dream, boundless rain as fine as sorrow" does not eat the earth's flames of the delicate beauty, the kind of enjoyment of life, do the natural confidant of the transcendent drift 。。。。

Once upon a time, always thought that the heart settled in their own creation of the world of love, not in and out, it will be very safe; from now on, no longer have the luxury of touching the network of that wonderful world, neither will disturb anyone, and will not be hurt, and plainly sowing plainly harvesting; no matter whether it is intentional or not intentional, but seems to be a kind of far-fetched idea, in my mind as if a long way to go, a stage, a long life, a long time to go, a long life. A station in my heart as a distant road, the end of a long life, a piece of pure land in the depths of the heart; this is not something to do, just a sincere desire of the heart.

A person is a little lonely, but the heart is free, not trapped in the red dust, relatively high off the vulgar. The world has nothing to do, why bother yourself? The first thing you need to do is to let go of the mood and get a peaceful, calm and free mood. The rain washes away the splendor of the human heart, the rain clears the chaos of heaven and earth, and the rain also tranquilizes the human mood. Sometimes, it rains outside but the heart is clear; and sometimes, it is clear outside but the heart is raining. Many things in the world are in contrast for you to savor. When the heart is clear, the rain is also clear; when the heart is raining, the clear is also rain. The sound of rain in the dream, the heart, and the rain **** dance.

Rainy night thoughts

Night, is invisible, dark-colored net, cover you and me. Within arm's reach, I can't see you, and you can't see me. The only thing that can't be covered is the rain, such as silk, such as line, long line. Rain, drifting down the treetops, by the branches and leaves intercepted; drifting down the field, by the soil adsorption; drifting down the pool, by the light wave assimilation. Only when it drifts down to the human heart, it germinates and grows into boundless thoughts.

There is only one of you in my thoughts on a rainy night, just like the lilacs. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on an umbrella and walk through a long, rainy alleyway, and then walk over to me with a gentle step, into my eager eyes. The heavens were kind enough to send lightning in time. In a flash, the umbrella gently lifted, waterfall hair, bright eyes and red lips is your sketch, sketched out the extraordinary innocence, soul-stirring "stunning"! Oil-paper umbrella gently pressed, the picture is fixed in the oil-paper umbrella - lilac flowers like long skirt. At this moment, the uninteresting rain weaved into the cloth, cicada-like cloth, hazy eyes should not be hazy.

Every time in the fine rain like weaving rainy night, always accustomed to stand in the corner of the long lane, gazing at the other end of the lane. I'm looking forward to your appearance. I hope to once again capture the breathless bright eyes and red lips outside the details, even if it is a tiny slice of rain, as material to fill the blanks on the large piece of my drawing board. My expectations were not high!

Wait until the disheartened when, tired and weak, quietly, you came, as the first time I saw you, holding an oil-paper umbrella, fluttering, fluttering into,......, and rubbing past.

Heart, by the rain mercilessly pumped, can not see the blood, only tears, into a river of tears. Lilac-like you have come, oil paper umbrellas lifted, and the opportunity is missed every time.

The blanks on the canvas, what to fill with?

Rainy night thoughts

This night. It is a rainy night. But it's not the fine drizzle of Jiangnan that I love. Rather, it is a night of typhoons laced with torrential rain.

Home from work at ten-thirty. Only when I arrived downstairs did I see the torrential downpour that was in my imagination. Other people are consciously or unconsciously queuing up to wait for the rain to stop. And then get off work. They dared not rush into this rain. But I dared. And I did.

Into the rain. I could feel the strange looks in people's eyes. I didn't care. The wind blew from my side. I couldn't control my steps forward. In the same way that I can't control myself in this pursuit I've chosen to give up. But I still had to move forward. I had to get back to the dorm. To the end of the line as it were.

It was almost time to go home. A typhoon blew in with rain. The raindrops that slapped against my face were cold and icy. Drops stabbed into the heart. The pain is icy cold. The wind rolled up my Pu Pu's T-shirt. I let the cold raindrops surround and then spread over every inch of my skin. The aim is strange. My senses have become numb. As if I had chosen to give up. My heart is also like stopping water. I face it calmly. But getting more and more panicked. The violent wind forced me to take a few steps backward. I had to turn my back to keep myself balanced. So that I wouldn't fall to the ground in the battle with it. In the same way that in this quest I had to go back to the beginning and then turn my back to get back on track with my life. Despite the pain that tore at my heart. But I have no choice. I had to do it. And I have to smile and wish each other well. Only in this way can I let my heart because I choose to give up and feel the great loss of the same.

Close your eyes quietly. Let the typhoon blow on my weak body. Until shivering. Let the torrential rain wash over my skin. Wash over one's soul. Let it take away every moment of laughter in this pursuit. I'm getting a little tired. And then in slow motion breaking down bit by bit.

Getting home. Quietly looking at the ceiling. Quietly listening to the low roar of the typhoon blowing against the trees in the hills behind me. Listening to the unrecognizable sound of the rainstorm pounding everything in the world. Quietly lighting a cigarette. Let my thoughts go into memories. Let my thoughts drift into the future. Let my thoughts in this night rain until slowly solidified. I'm not going to be able to get the best out of it, but I'm going to be able to get the best out of it," he said.

Tonight, quietly alone alone feel the sudden rain of this courtyard. As quietly feel the pursuit of this hastily come and hastily go.

Tonight. I just want to be in the rain quietly sleepy dreams become blank.

Listening to the rain

Four hundred and eighty temples in the south, how many buildings in the smoke and rain. --Du Mu

I like to be alone at night listening to the sound of the rain, rain is the spirit of nature, I think. Open the lamp, yellow light sprinkled with a piece of warmth, soak a cup of fragrant tea, taste carefully, quietly listen to ......

Open the window, the fresh earthy aroma entrained with pattering rain drifted into the, heh, can only be imagined not to be able to say, can not say cozy, I want to be three points Yi An's euphony, three points of the boldness of the Dong Po, three points of the Jain Qing I want to three Yi An's elegance, three Dong Po's boldness, three Jieqing's indifference, a section of Nalan's mind, into a very cozy and then listen to the natural sound of the rain.

Spring rain is fine, make people cozy, she is fresh and not charming, small and no loss of strength, she is always fine talk, talk about the spring of the remote and warm. Summer rain of boldness let a person pain, she is like a shocking masterpiece of beauty, suddenly mountains and rivers, suddenly a cascade of water, suddenly the mountains and soil, suddenly the sea swallowed the flow, let a person enjoy the most. Autumn rain is miserable and grievous people love and pity, she is suddenly singing, suddenly as the clouds and water, and suddenly want to say. Winter rain is no longer reserved, but she is dignified and elegant. Listening to the four seasons of the rain do not feel the emotion of the mirror, the sea and the sea.

The rain is spiritual, she seems to follow the human will "with the wind into the night, silent". Rain is also gentle, not see "wet apricot rain, blowing face not cold willow wind". The rain is still beautiful, "the rain on the sky street is as wet as crispy, the color of the grass is close but no." Whenever the summer and cold easy section, always feel that the world is dangerous, the red dust rolls, so it will be more yearning for that "green Ruo hat, green Demoiselle, the wind and rain do not have to return."

The cup of tea has been exhausted, unwilling to pour another cup. Miaoyu said: "a cup for the product, two cups will become a thirst quenching stupid."

The wind is fiery and the rain is intellectual.

Wind is art, rain is almost philosophy.

Like a person in the night to listen to the sound of rain, listening to the melody of nature, "once the sea is difficult to water, except the witch mountain is not cloud." She makes me think, which is like a white cloud, floating over my mind, making it serene and lofty.

Many people are more witty when they are more worldly, and less elegant when they are more witty. I'd rather have a little less wit and a little more elegance. I'd rather have a little more wit than a little more elegance," he said, "but I'd rather have a little more elegance than a little more wit.

Late at night, picking a lamp to listen to the rain, the shape of the heart, do not feel smile.

The rain in my mind

"Rain", a simple word, in the eyes of some people is nothing, but for me, it is like the end of life, the beam of beautiful, warm sunshine, which illuminates all the life for you, it is for you to wash all the dirt on the mind! ......

My grandmother, she is a person who is so laid back at all times, as if she has been detached from anyone and anything in her life. I remember when I was 5 years old, on a rainy day, I leaned over my grandmother and asked her, "Grandma, Grandma, why don't you cry? Haven't you ever had anything to be sad about in your life?" Grandma looked at me, smiled and asked, "Do you want to know?" I nodded vigorously, "Like me, I cry when my mom hits me." She said, "Look," and looked out the window, "at the rain." I looked at the rain and said, "Isn't that rain?" "No! That's still God." Grandma said. "God?" I was puzzled. It was then that I thought: could this rain still give us happiness and luck? "Yes, it's God, the greatest God in the world," Grandmother said, "It washes away your dirt, whether it's on the outside or in the mind."

Then, within a few years, Grandma went away, forever. The house burst into tears, and I didn't cry, not because I didn't love my grandmother, I loved her, I loved my grandmother. But a strong force made my tears evaporate and disappear. When Grandma died, her face was rosy and she went with a smile. What was that? What was hovering over Grandma's bedside? It was a belief! A faith that would never leave! It followed her closely and never left. Outside the window, it was drizzling ......

After a few more years, I finally felt it -- the rain in my heart! -- a true god!

Rain, my God. It cleansed me of dirt, whether on the outside, or in my heart.

Listening to the rain

Of all the sounds of nature, I love to listen to the sound of the rain, which sounds to me like a sonata, either elegant or bold.

Listening to my mother, when I was young, crying in my mother's arms, as long as I heard the sound of rain, will immediately stop crying, quietly lying in his mother's arms, with two black eyes, breathless concentration, the seriousness of the appearance of many people think it is lovely.

At the age of five or six, when I began to remember, whenever it rained, I always had to sit alone by the door, with two elbows on my chin, listening to the sound of the rain falling. Sometimes at night, my grandmother called me to go to bed, but I was not willing to leave the door, still sitting there, so every time I love my grandmother always accompanied me to sit until the rain stops or late at night.

Today, I am 12 years old, has stepped into the teenage years, the childish habits of childhood should fall a lot, only this listening to the rain problem not only did not change, but even more.

Our family of eight, I own a small bed, in order to listen to the rain, I deliberately put the bed under the window. Whenever the rain fell, the refreshing sound of the rain soaked into my ear drums like charming music. Especially at night, I sat on the cot and listened intently, and the rain in the sky poured into my heart, and my body seemed to swell up, and I felt that I had added infinite strength. What a fascinating moment it was!

Once, during a language class, it suddenly started to rain. My old habits again, forget to listen to the lesson, looking out the window misty everything, listening to the extremely rhythmic rain play, immersed in the wonderful realm. The language teacher noticed my absent-minded demeanor and asked a simple question, calling me three times in a row, but I didn't respond until the teacher tapped me on the head and I woke up.

If there is a storm, the howling winds accompanied by the sound of the rain, coupled with one after another lightning and thunder, the situation seems to have thousands of horses and armies from the sky, there is a thrilling momentum. That moment, I will be excited hands and feet, heart full of infinite excitement, seems to be thrown into the thousands of horses, to the rout of the enemy to kill the same, happy. Often the rain cleared up and the clouds dispersed for a long time, I that tide of heart still can not be calmed down.

Winter is coming, how I long to hurry to the vigorous summer, can rain a few pouring rain, so that the bold music to arouse the infinite passion of my heart ah! Essay Bar

Listening to the rain

The lightning and thunder, flowers and trees, spring, summer, fall and winter ...... these are the treasures that nature has given us. And among these treasures, I really like the sound of rain.

So I fell in love with listening to the rain. The rainy season brings me different spiritual experiences throughout the year.

Spring rain is a quiet and elegant little girl. Du Fu's poem says: "Diving into the night with the wind, moistening things silently." Spring rain follows the branches sprouting quietly, people did not realize. But as long as in a quiet night, quiet mind, holding a cup of fragrant tea, the mind imagines such a picture: the earth is a good rice paper, spring rain in the paper gently dipped, that emerald green will be dizzily scattered, covered with the earth ...... At this time, outside the window, a "Night of the Spring River and the Moon" will be ringing in your ears: "......."

The summer rain was not so good-tempered. It makes a scene all the way down, jumping and falling in clusters. It fell onto the corrugated, the windows, the earth ...... striking everything that could make a sound. The rhythmic sound seems to remind you: a rock party is about to begin! Then the wind roared and the clouds filled the sky. In order to illuminate the venue, lightning was invited, and in an instant the night turned into day. As the baton in the conductor's hand moved, millions of musicians played music. The momentum swallowed the bull, trembled your heart, and your mind couldn't help but turn over layers and thousands of miles of waves, keeping you completely awake.

Fall, traditionally known as the golden autumn. Then we will call the fall rain as golden rain! In the dashing golden rain, everything falls into the low point of the year. Golden rain continues to fall, although it brings a hint of cold, but also to the farmers brought the good news of the harvest. Sometimes looking at the rain outside the window, I can not help but draw the blueprint of life, thoughts like a broken kite ......

Winter in people's minds is cold and breathless, but the winter rain is gentle and generous. It is not slow and slow down, for the trees to remove the "white coat", washed the street, but also to the river injected vigor. It is a symbol of the arrival of spring.

Listening to the rain, listening with your heart, you can interpret the seasons and realize the true meaning of life!

Spring Rain-Summer Rain

When it comes to rain, we know that it rains in all seasons of the year, but I like spring rain and summer rain.

Spring rain is so fine, like cow hair, like silver wire; spring rain is so soft, it floats on people's body, and sometimes people can't feel it. Spring rain is like a magician, falling on the grass, the grass becomes green; falling on the flowers, the flowers bloom; falling on the trees, the trees will be sprouted ...... The spring scenery in the spring rain this magic wand becomes extraordinarily beautiful. I love spring rain,

Summer rain is also indispensable. Summer rain is not the same as spring rain. How does the summer rain come out? The weather was fine, but suddenly the sky was dark and cloudy, and before long it was raining. The rain is so heavy that it falls to the ground with a splash of water, which is beautiful. Summer rain does not last long, soon stopped, the sun came out again, high in the sky appeared a colorful rainbow, dress up the sky extraordinarily beautiful. I love summer rain.

I like spring and summer rain.

Rain

Rain is soft, the lightest thing in the world, and can't knock on the heavy reinforced concrete buildings. Unlike the tiled huts, the raindrops tinkle on them and immediately make a pleasant sound. Those who are in the hut are also blessed to be close to nature in the rain. When the rain is fast and furious, the sound is generous and exciting, like a hundred horses roaring together, like ten thousand horses galloping. The rain slows down, the sound is also weak, gently into your heart, like a warm spring breeze in the ear, the tiles seem to be set up for the rain, they play dutifully, listening to the rain people will be the heart of the endless feelings.

People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and sadness. The old man's ambition is to "listen to the wind blowing rain in the dead of night, the iron horse icy river into the dream"; the beauty of the late twilight of the "yellow leaf tree in the rain, under the lamp white head of the person" of the grievances; the lover of the love of the "sycamore more and fine rain, to dusk. The lover of love has "wutong more and fine rain, to the dusk, dot by dot" of Suo Huai; sentimental poet has "small building one night listening to the spring rain, deep alleys tomorrow morning selling apricot blossoms" of reverie.

The rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and send their wishes.

It was a pleasure to return to the place where I used to listen to the rain. It was drizzling that day, and I heard the familiar and unfamiliar sound of rain. In the midst of the confusion, the sound of rain reveals an odd mood, the kind that has not been communicated for a long time. It rejected me from a thousand miles away, showing me that it was unfamiliar to me, yet I could feel its presence from the deepest part of my consciousness. I had a sense of relief at having awakened violently from a dream and a sense of vicissitude after a period of confusion.

Oh, what I met in the sound of the rain was my ego, which had been separated from time and space, and was telling me about my past. I was at a loss, I asked myself: Who am I? I'm not sure if I'm the same person I used to be, but I'm not the same person.

There are some words: "The young man listens to the rain and sings upstairs, the red candle dims the tent. The old man listening to the rain in the passenger boat, the river is broad and low clouds, broken geese calling the west wind. Life situation is different, listening to the rain feelings are also different. However, listening to the rain is to listen to the soul of the conversation, listen to the true feelings of the diarrhea, listen to the murmuring flow of years. The sound of rain, in addition to the reverberations of the years, there is the old days are no longer deplorable and want to talk about the melancholy. It seems that only in the light sound of rain in this tile house, the mind can breathe, life can continue.

The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat ......

Summer rain watching

This year's summer rain is particularly heavy, and whenever it rains, I can't help but lie down on the window sill, mesmerized ("mesmerized" is enough to show that the youngest of the youngest of the youngest of the youngest of the young. "The word is enough to show the little author's love of summer rain) to watch the rain outside the window.

This summer is really like a child's face, changing at the drop of a hat. Just now it was a clear sky, in the blink of an eye the clouds rolled to the east and the gusty wind kept whistling． Then a flash of lightning, the sky was split in half, the heartbreaking sound of thunder rang out, not long after the sky is cloudy, as if wearing a black robe. All of a sudden, the raindrops like thousands of broken beads drifted down, making a slight "rustle" sound. (Rain after the language refined, one breath, written out of the summer rain is raging, lightning characteristics) fell on the ground, immediately turned into a small flower, a scattered, one and open, a piece of a piece of land, good-looking; fell on the soil, the soil will greedily sucking; fell on the small flowers and grass, they raised their faces and kissed the raindrops; fell on the... ...("greedy", "sucking", "kissing" and other words write out the desire of all things in nature for rain)

Gradually, gradually. Ground, clattering down, the rain fell more and more heavily, more and more sharply, as if it were a waterfall falling from the sky, swooping down violently on the earth, literally attacking the earth. At last the rain poured madly into the earth, lacking (rather) the momentum of a mountain. Windows

The households were battered by the rain. The whole city was covered in white rain.

After a few minutes of this, the clouds slowly dispersed, the sky brightened, and the rain gradually stopped, but the thunder continued to sound. I like to watch the rain in summer, it brings me endless fun, endless reverie.

Look, another burst of rain came ......

Midnight rain

The dark night sky seems to have prepared, long brewing summer rain came late. The tiny raindrops have no rhythm, falling from the sky, swaying with the wind. Uneven, discontinuous, a trace, a burst, gradually, I heard its melody, seems to be its sigh. A moment, so sharp, so urgent. Accompanied by the sound of the wind together. I don't know if the wind is too sharp or the rain is too hasty, but the wind and the rain always work so seamlessly together.

"The rain comes with the wind, and it is overwhelming. Feel the storm's contention, listen to its indignant and mournful heart. Bean-sized raindrops fell from the sky, hitting the windows, making a crisp sound. In the dark I feel it in the grief, is it for the night and cry, or for the dawn in the cry? I don't know. I don't know from what time, the wind became cool and soft, and the rain sprinkled its last grace, the melody was so beautiful, the rhythm was so gentle, slow and methodical, adding color to the quiet night.

The rain came with the wind and went with the wind, pattering, intermittent, with a trace of longing to go. Leave footprints for the footprints of the wind, deep and shallow ......

The wind stopped, and the rain also pulled down the curtain in the intermittent, seems to make up for this reckless behavior to make up for something. The wind goes without a hidden come without a trace, the rain is always with the wind drifting and swirling, for the wind's rapid pace to add footprints. Good fast a rain huh! At this time in front of a wet, fresh and clear has been rinsed dust, the wind attacked away all should not come. Occasionally, you can hear the sound of rain under the eaves, and everything is back to calm and quiet.

Dark night sky, dark rain ......

As the months increase, the weather becomes colder.

Tonight, there was a fluttering silky rain, which fell from that high night sky. It fell to the ground with a crisp sound of water drops; it flew down to the window and pressed its body against the glass, stretching it out for a long, long time. It's looking right at you! It's shushing you! At once, a stream of heat rushed to the heart, an inexplicable impulse jumped to the brain, so much so that I wanted to run out the door, open my arms and embrace this messenger of nature to the fullest.

It is gone, come in a hurry, go busy, bring the warmth, brush away the disappointment.

It came again, this time, what did it bring? Let me feel it again in detail! It flowed over my hair, over my face, and slowly slid to the ground, splashing a beautiful crystal flower. I know it, I understand it, and this time, it brings me life and infinite hope.

Outside the window, the rain pattered down, forming a beautiful ink painting like smoke and mist. Raindrops, it is neither as soft as cow hair, nor as hard as flower needles, it is a burst, a little bit, as if not on the ground, but in my heart. Autumn night lamps, fine rain lingering, and what a helpless and sad silence ah.

I sat in front of the window to listen to the breath of the rain, it is a kind of enjoyment - the soul of the unparalleled, pleasurable, calm, the enjoyment of natural beauty. Listen to the ebullience of the rain, the depth of the rain, the whispers of the rain, the roars of the rain, the smiles of the rain, the chants, cries and roars of the rain. Rain is the spirit of nature, it is as sentimental as human beings. I love the murmur of the spring rain, love the passion of the summer rain, love the grief of the autumn rain, love the winter rain of the floating high.

Listening to the rain, the rain is like a flower whispering on the ground, conveying a thought, a blessing, a comfort, a ray of warmth, it is a sacred fire, open the door to my dusty silent heart.

436 Responses by: 神雕独臂大侠 - First Class 2010-3-15 19:33

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