Youth went through the loss, no longer look back, if you are in the season of flowers, forget to take some beautiful photos, wait until you miss the flower season, wait until we remember to go back to the memory of the moment, still can not go back, time as water, can not be traced back.
Youth has a lot of stories, a lot of love, 18 years old age is like a bunch of roses, beautiful and fresh, so that people through the lungs, a thousand feelings! But because of the initial childishness, we have not yet understood the preciousness of youth, have not had time to cherish, have not learned to cherish the moment, it is slowly flowing away in our unconscious! When we really know to cherish, really know to stay in the moment, youth is still old! Understanding is a process, just as life is a process, this process needs time to experience, but experience mature, there is no more time!
People are good at showing off the value of youth, treating it as a kind of capital and waving it around, squandering their lives to confirm the value of youth, using vanity to show its charm, and not caring to prove that it's dashing!
When the autumn wind, when the yellow flowers fall, when the youth is no longer, when the sunlight is cold and warm, the body's capital is still a loss, yesterday's day can not be retained, only to understand, only as a dream, it turns out that the youth do not have to show off, do not have to prove it, it is we can not afford to squander, because the youth is not the only one we have!
We have all been young, have had a beautiful youth, beautiful dreams, our splendor is only the creation of nature, just heaven's given, not our own capital, we do not have the capital to show off to squander! Childish let us
,
, let us have stubbornness and prejudice, let us dash and
! When maturity comes, we realize that youth is a song, a song sung with passion and energy; youth is a dream, a beautiful dream, let us overcome vanity and impatience, with a beautiful dream made of solidity; youth is an eagle, a vulture not afraid of difficulties, crossing the long sky, so that life is full of power!
Youth in our only, only once, in the beautiful flower season, when we are in the moment of happiness to learn to cherish, in the moment of difficulty, to learn to endure, in the face of adversity to learn to struggle, so that the youth have beautiful memories, to retain our best time, so that the beauty of the fixed in our hearts!
Youth sacrifice.
Scented paper, write all back to the machine on the intention. I want to volume re-open, read through a thousand times and ten thousand times.
From time to time, in the sunshine of the afternoon, will turn over the anthology of those who wrote a long, long time ago. For the sake of the childishness and
that flowed between the lines, I smiled a little. I don't know, in each of these smiles, whether the mood of relief is a little more, or whether the feelings of vicissitude are a little heavier. The sunshine of the afternoon, silent thoughts like diffuse a light
mellow fragrance, let people
in this charming time.
Those things that had happened in the years of ignorance, under the projection of this daylight, seem extraordinarily verdant and transparent. Always foolishly think, if you can those unpleasant memories, completely burned; if you can those unpleasant past, from the bottom of my heart completely uprooted; if, if ever everything can be as good as, in that now I am, it is how deep happiness ah.
In fact, I should not have such lingering sadness. Because these years, I have lived a life that is so simple and mechanical. Like an ascetic, I cycled through the three points of words, books, and life. Diving headlong into my academic research and literary creation, I am unwilling to bring up the past, unwilling to divulge too much of my mood. Even though I often have random thoughts, I prefer to use the most beautiful and gorgeous words to cover up my inner haggardness and sadness. I'm not sure if I'm a good person, but I'm a good person, and I'm a good person, and I'm a good person.
When my eyes feel the deep serenity of the blue sky, the bottom of my heart will also be flooded with trembling, like the anticipation of the leaves, longing for the warmth of the sun will be all the emptiness of the pouring. Often locked eyebrows contemplating, thinking, these years of meditation, whether it is enough to be incurred at the beginning of the non-sense and inner condemnation are all smoothed, ironed straight. When I am still as colorful as a pear blossom smile, whether there is still sweet as manna. The summer has not yet opened the mood, at the moment, also like the fall of the clouds, endless pursuit around.
Longing for this warm sunshine, sleeping in the cataract forest, listening to the stream gurgling leisurely, listening to the soft voice of birds, listening to
quietly open in the wind. Thinking about the warmth and sweetness that has drifted away with the summer, what kind of beautiful scene can fill my heart's regret on such a winter day. The words that I wanted to say but did not say, like
with the waves of time and the ups and downs.
There was a refreshingly smooth tune, and
the
, dripped into my budding heart. I unconsciously fluttered my heart and soul for it, and my thoughts became mellow and exquisite. When the summer sun in the sunset hidden, that a tune also in my heart gradually faded. Until one day, a wave of melancholy will be my dream from the start, in the middle of the night wind, the heart again felt a burst of strange fragrance of the source. It was only then that I suddenly remembered what I had once possessed, that complete warmth and sweetness, like that fresh and smooth tune. At that time, I did not know that they were so near to me. And now, this pale thought makes one's heart ache and want to shed tears. Those who have not had time to savor the feelings, in the young years, have long
When this afternoon breeze, such as dragonflies gossamer wings in the gently vibration, but also still swept through my thoughts, will be from the Mercedes-Benz wilderness to pull me back. It is very sad to wander under the tree, sighing, this colorful
fluttering, this generous red leaves full of path. There is a kind of quiet, quiet feelings, in this silent winter, faded in the slanting sunshine, faded in the mountain streams and green hillocks, faded in the days and months of my heart. Occasionally there is a kind of confused warmth, like fireflies like glittering in my heart, in the twilight of despair, to explore its deep meaning.
My heart is sad and calm, like a musician's before he plucks his lute on this coffee-like afternoon
. My heart is agonizing with expectation, on this coffee-like afternoon, looking forward to the miracle of sunlight that will one day illuminate every corner of my soul. My heart is heavy and light, on this coffee-like afternoon, the light of beauty that overflows the firmament has cast a ray of eternal love on my pearly features. My heart is miserable and sweet, in this coffee-like afternoon, one day, this perfect warmth, will also be in the depths of my heart, moving open.
Youthful love, dust and ashes
In the vicissitudes of the river of time, we will always forget some distant memories, but there are some but like a seed in the bottom of our hearts to take root and germinate, and forever difficult to forget. Just like adolescence, we read the story of the Sahara Desert of San Mao, read the prose of Ximu Rong, read Wang Guozhen's poems, they bring our mind infinite power, accompanied by all of our
No matter what kind of childhood, what kind of youth, and then more friends, and then more hilarious ultimately other people's, and alone in the unique loneliness of the marquee, play the game of feelings belonging to the two people, lonely and I'm not sure if you're a good person, but I'm a good person, and I'm a good person. Everyone has two sides, mutual deception, but can not adhere to, turn around and leave, the memory of the sunshine as debris, sprinkled all over the body and face. When you look back frequently, only the sweet black wind is left to tussle back and forth in the night sky of memory.
They are all young children, feelings of diffusion and sadness but also can not cross the past. The experience is a very good thing, it can let us grow into a strong child. It is also like the life of those who have existed, perhaps not long but still be a stroke carved in the tip of his heart, it is enough.
Perhaps one day we will stand in the season of falling leaves, laughing at those young smiles and childish persistence, with a steady heart to despise the vicissitudes of years, with a mature mood to embrace the thick and
the arms of life. In that
river, strange ripples begin to swell, circle, circle, breaking through the prison, flooding the earth, reaching the edge of the universe. A star falls. The beautiful wings of a butterfly break. Youth, fleeting, is gone. There are no tears. Strike the rusted heart with a hammer. Pain.
Love, the word how heavy, and how many people can really understand? Love a person, is not it necessary to keep each other for life, never leave each other? The real love is to walk into the coffin of the moment, also never change heart. However, this is also true, who can know?
The cruel reality is that I can only tearfully look at the figure of love in the distance. Just like a lonely lamp in the sea, no matter how strong, or how
, ultimately still can not escape the fate of the destruction of the storm,
, but also just a matter of time.
Perhaps growing up is this way, all the way, met some people some things, pay some get some. The first thing you need to do is to get a good deal on your own, and then you'll be able to get a good deal on your own. This is the first time I've ever seen a person who was a member of a group of people who had been in the same group of people who had been in the same group of people. Experiencing a relationship, like fading all the youthful splendor, pain to loneliness. But the past has passed, still have to smile and look forward. Even if it is
, it is still very long. Perhaps, all the stories, all the end, all the sadness and despair, encounter and parting, are like the vile text flowers, withered in the unknown land that no longer dance.
Youth, love, growth, transformation, unknowingly completed. Between the beautiful and heartbreaking, beautiful and cruel, always have to taste, even if the endless coveting of those warm, we also know that she has already disappeared in the riverbed of life, can no longer be found for a moment. The birth is a beautiful dream. Just like that love. Has blossomed like fireworks.
Those who are allowed to be capricious years, called youth.
Those who are allowed to be capricious years, called youth.
Maybe I'm no longer allowed to be capricious, but relax, there's no need for everyone to remind me that I'm wasting my youth.
What is the purpose of living? A hundred people will have a hundred kinds of answer, but if it is really as someone said: "young life for money, old money for life" then I would like to ask: "in the end is the length of life is important, or the process of life is important?"
Relative to most people, my idea will be recognized by them as not upwardly mobile, not enterprising, not cumulative, not ...... and so on and so forth. LOL! Well, I've been reflecting, and reflecting and reflecting, and it's finally brought me to a truth - the world has always taken what the majority of people think it is and considered it "yes", and ignored what the small number of people think it isn't. Oh, it's a nostalgic feeling - I remember when I was in the first grade, my teacher gave me a math team leader, and I didn't know that the teacher would give us the correct answers to check after doing the exercises. So I used my power as a team leader to check the answers first - anything that was the same as the answer I had written was correct.
Heh, see I was great then!
People sometimes get agitated when others think differently than they do, and they want to instill their own ideas in others. They try to make others feel that "my" idea is the right one. This is to get others to agree with you, to boost your self-confidence and to strengthen your beliefs.
There's no denying that most people think this way, and in modern society there are three ways to get approval - money, fame and status. These are the three things that those who have mastered the skill
and those who don't get the hang of it are reduced to slavery.
Why? Why do you have to prove something? Why must you prove something to anyone? Do you live for others or for yourself?
Butterflies are short-lived, but their lives are colorful. They have lived, and they are stunningly unforgettable. However, I believe that the butterfly does not exist just because it wants people to see its beauty. More than that, it will not die because someone sees its beauty. It exists only for itself! Its beauty is only because of itself! There is no need to prove anything to anyone.
Anyone has the right to choose life, the majority of people think it is "right", it is right; a few people think it is "wrong", it is also right. Why be anxious, why not let go of your prejudice to respect the choice of others. You can't advise someone to give up their job and do what you do because you make more money than they do. There has to be some division of labor in the world.
So teenagers, splurge on your youth, it's life's path of discovery. Is it worth it? Ask your heart! People, it is not possible to walk every step of the way when the direction is correct, sometimes around some bends, which will become the memory of the recall very early, I heard people say: memory is the root of all the melancholy. In this case, youth should also be a memory, a memory that we can not avoid.
Underworldly, we come from the sadness, quietly, so walked through many days; look back, that wipe between the eyebrows of the sadness of the stamp like a seal fixed in the position belonging to the youth, in the river of life, cut out a wave. Walked through, that is our youth, with a light bitterness, dissolved into a light melody.
Dreams and happiness are the main content of our pursuit, therefore, sadness and confusion become the basic color tone of youth. We fall in and out of life, like all lonely children, wanting to subvert everything including ourselves, cruising on the edge of ideal and reality. In fact, I should say dreams, even if they are unattainable ideals. I think we have dreams just as much as we do. Dreams are far away, just as happiness is far away, just as all the sadness and confusion is in that far away place. And far away, we know nothing but far away, or originally there is nothing.
In this way, what is left is only memory, even if it is a melancholy memory. Those who thought they had long forgotten the warmth, through the gap of time will also come to the face.
Lu You, who was in his twilight years, wrote this poem after he had tasted the sorrows and joys of the world: "Old age has already forgotten the world's affairs, and I still see peony flowers in my dreams." It can be imagined how the old poet, who had fallen into despair and sadness, let a peony flower, which appeared in his dream from time to time, cover the vast world affairs? It is a memory, a memory of youth, a memory of the beauty of youth.
Therefore, we have to leave a little capital for the future memories of youth, at least not to make it a blank. Perhaps, years later, when we are sitting alone on a park bench, let the corners of our mouths show a smile at sunset. This image of loneliness will seem to be sympathetic to passers-by, however, who can appreciate the wonderful journey we are on at that moment? We are riding in the wagon of memories, hoofing it and hoofing it on a blissful trip down memory lane. We will remember a winter night when there were still snowflakes outside the window and the family was talking around the fireplace. My mother was doing needlework while she was rambling on about learning to take care of herself while studying away from home, reading a threadbare book of old poems, and not paying attention to her words. We will remember a summer, the sun is very mild that day, walked to the corner of the stairs and bumped into his crush for a long time the girl, her face bright, he pretended not to see hurriedly brushed past, but she wore a blue background white flower dress clearly printed in the eyes. We will remember ......
We will remember all the memories related to youth. Then, years later, we again face this book of remembrance, all we have to do is to gently caress these yellowed pages, and then, looking at the afternoon sun, smile. A long time ago, I heard people say: memory is the root of all melancholy. In this case, youth should also be a memory, a memory that we can not avoid.
Therefore, we have to leave a little capital for the future memories of youth, at least not to make it blank. Perhaps, years later, when we are sitting alone on a park bench, letting the corners of our mouths break into a smile at sunset. This image of loneliness will seem to be sympathetic to passers-by, however, who can appreciate the wonderful journey we are on at that moment? We are riding in the wagon of memories, hoofing it and hoofing it on a blissful trip down memory lane. We will remember a winter night when there were still snowflakes outside the window and the family was talking around the fireplace. My mother was doing needlework while she was rambling on about learning to take care of herself while studying away from home, reading a threadbare book of old poems, and not paying attention to her words. We will remember a summer, the sun is very mild that day, walked to the corner of the stairs and bumped into his crush for a long time the girl, her face bright, he pretended not to see hurriedly brushed past, but she wore a blue background white flower dress clearly printed in the eyes. We will remember ......
We will remember all the memories related to youth. Then, years later, we again face this book of remembrance, all we have to do is to gently caress these yellowed pages, and then, looking at the afternoon sun, smile.
Gazing at the bank of the willow shadow, I went into the memory of youth, that was once green grass like weaving
the world, today but covered with a layer of silver frost. Because for a
person, playing the strings of youth is afraid to be a bit outdated.
And yet, after all, I have resided in this life
. You see those crooked on the road is not exactly toddler footprints? You listen to that simple willow flute song, is not exactly the call of the heart? What a persistent pursuit, how naive fantasies, no false and no sorrow. And those false and floating, is the footprints of my youth. That is in the times of the wind and rain times hit the ignorance of the road stepped through. I
My youth was a time of great sorrow, a time of frenzied passion intertwined with earth-shattering slogans. I have also studied hard to always want to get rid of the ten years of tribulation to our generation's gift - the ignorance of the cloudy sky childish dust and shallow mud. However, and who can get rid of the air of the times dirty it?
Worth of comfort is that I am sober I understand life that is the alternation of sentimental and pleasure weaving is brave and cowardly constantly transposition.
No failures and setbacks, no pain and uncertainty. Then how can I taste the pride of success and the joy of victory how can I shake off the footprints of childishness and shallowness so I look ahead as if I see a harvest season is coming towards us 。。。。。
Spring, when we enter the 18-year-old first day, we feel that youth is a vibrant green, is a kind of green flame is burning, is a round of the sun is rising. Youth is not just a period of time in life, nor does it only mean rosy cheeks. Youth is a state of mind, is a relentless drive, rich imagination and hot feelings, is a bunch of endless green flame.
Youth, only burning, is a true youth. The season of youth, every day blossoms with the flowers of dreams. A beautiful dream with wings is the kindling that ignites this green flame. So it is said that adolescence cannot be without dreams! As long as there is a dream there will be burning, the fire of youth will be more and more prosperous; as long as there is a dream there will be hope, even in the cold winter, youth will also ignite the vibrant spring!
Youth is a kind of pride, even a kind of inflated pride! Youth can be proud of all the obstacles under the sun that are called difficulties, and can cross any mountain that is high into the clouds! As long as it is a youth that is burning, it generates an indestructible heat. There is no difficulty that does not fear this kind of youth that is burning.
With youth, you have a new world, you have a sunny morning. However, if you do not have a dream in your youth, or not to dream of tomorrow, not to burn today, then this youth is a pile of dead ashes. If you don't burn yourself, if you don't have hope, you will never find the season of spring flowers. Your young heart will be engraved with countless wrinkles, and regret, fear, and low self-esteem will distort your soul and turn your youth into ashes.
This epiphany is ours, and yours, for our peers who are possessing youth. Then let our youth burn together, and let the prancing flames show us the magnificence and power of this
youth of ours!
Remember, only by burning youth, your life will emit a dazzling light
Unconsciously, I have climbed over sixteen mountains;
Soundlessly, I have leaped over sixteen streams;
Unknowingly, I have already entered into youth.
What kind of world is this, no one has answered, so I have only explored, pondered, and endeavored to get out of this bewildering darkness.
I realized that this is a chaotic world. Everything is so strange, so new, and every now and then there are adventures that thrill me, I stimulate, I excite, I yearn, that different all, waiting for me to open. Dancing along with the trend, going crazy with the world.
I found that this is a dream world. Everything is mine alone. No constraints, no discipline, happy heart flying in the clear blue sky. I can do whatever I want, floating in the river of fantasy, hard to extricate myself, let time stop, I would like to sleep, let the dream erosion, I would like to sink.
I found that this is a crazy world. Everything and everyone, suddenly far away, suddenly close at hand, so that I can not see, can not feel. The heaviness that had just begun to disappear came in like a raging wave and pulled away like air. Why? I asked everyone, everyone smiled and did not answer, eyes full of expectation and encouragement, I understand, turn around and go back to that crazy world, let the crazy continue my crazy.
I realized that it was a world of confusion. The pain that swept over me from time to time was depressing, as if reminding me of what I had lost, and I didn't understand. That which was there became a blur before my eyes, as if the wind blew and it dissipated. I tried to hold on to something, but I floundered. What grew clearer with it were the things I had discarded. Next week's quiz, tomorrow's memorization, the soon to be club exam ...... Though annoying, there was an inexplicable familiarity to it, and the mind was still without a ripple.
I found that this is an indescribable world, both sweet and sour, but also a dream castle,
, only by the heart to taste, only the original side of the vastness. What kind of feeling is what kind of perspective.
One day, looking back to realize that I have entered the youth.
After the confusion, everything is rebuilt, like a newborn;
We are so lucky.
For reference only!