University life is like a lost bird. Before all the rules are used in cages, once they are released, I don't know where to go. They are timid, emotionally struggling, ignorant, sentimental and confused. With the arrival of the hard-to-get-rid winter vacation, I stopped my college life. When the train carried me away from the lush south of the Yangtze River and once again into my hometown in the north, my heart suddenly threw out a trace of nostalgia. Although there was helplessness and my sigh, it was more my dream and pursuit!
The winter vacation ended in a hurry and I went back to school. I can't help but "the boat is light in the distance, and the wind is blowing my clothes", as if I had returned home. The first ray of sunshine in the morning has drilled a little green; Flowers in spring are blooming in the endless stream of people, busy people come and go, and small yellow flowers are blooming, lively and naughty. I think my life will have a good start here and there, just like other delicate flowers.
I will plan every day carefully. But it will also stand miserably, wander, face setbacks and not look at the road ahead. I'm worried about getting lost in endless busyness and disappointing that graceful love. If I still don't have it after a long journey, will I burst into tears when I look back? A little melancholy in the day slowly gathered, suffocating me, and I was too timid to move forward.
That night, I was as heavy-hearted and exhausted as usual, ready to go downstairs, and inadvertently the flowers outside the window fell into my eyes-it was an overflowing rose! They are scattered on the ceiling downstairs and gradually disappear on the edge of darkness, silent and mysterious. The light outside the window gently sprinkled on the nearby flowers, and the beautiful gesture reflected the stars at this moment. They are scattered with messy petals, as if after a heated discussion. They are all passionate, and they are waiting for a wonderful performance with a military parade. As a stage winner, I was moved to cry, listening to their cheers and smiling at them. ......
I excitedly went back to my dormitory and told my roommate about a person's statement and a beautiful encounter with flowers. ......
There is a room next to the bedroom. I am tired of reading. When I look up, there is a noble and elegant picture frame hanging on the big window. There are rich dark green, fresh and soft green and dotted with flowers, still standing gracefully and innocently.
Now, the spring of water will pass, and the scene will not make a prosperous leaf and a withered flower. Flowers are not far away, and their sweet souls have long been engraved in the rings of my life. They are always so lively and elegant, quietly and silently gestating the brilliance of next season.
Those flowers touched me and gave me strength to make youth bloom like flowers!