In a blink of an eye, my father is fifty years old. Looking at his white hair, I can't believe it. My father is fifty years old? Father is really fifty years old. I can't help asking myself.
I didn't attend my father's birthday party, but stayed at home alone. When my father came back, it was already twelve o'clock at night. I personally cooked a special dish and put it on the table, and took out a candle that was broken into several pieces but still lit. My father was not surprised, but just sat quietly in the chair and watched me fiddle back and forth. It was quiet at home at this time, and my mother was drunk and fell on the bed, leaving only me and my father without saying a word.
I opened a can of beer and divided it into two cups, one in front of my father and the other in front of me. My father still just looked at me quietly and said nothing. I turned off the light and lit the candle. I watched my father carefully by candlelight. To tell the truth, I have never seen my father so carefully: big eyes, big nose, frowning, still the same. But the difference is that there are a few wrinkles on the original astigmatism face, and the eyes with double eyelids have become eight eyelids, and deep bags under the eyes are attached because of the fatigue of work. I paused, and suddenly I reacted and said, Dad, blow out the candles. Hearing my words, he suddenly stood up as if he had come out from somewhere, rushed into the room in three steps and two steps, dragged his mother up and put her on the dining table. Her mother opened her eyes and seemed to cooperate. Just when the candle was about to melt, her father blew out the candle and smiled happily. I've never seen him so happy, and my mother seems to suddenly wake up and laugh with her father.
The light came on, and I began to pack my things, while my father was still munching on my cooking. After everything was over, I suddenly remembered one thing, "Happy birthday, Dad". He still didn't say anything, just patted me on the head, looked at me, and then went to bed. In fact, through his eyes, I can understand.
My father has really paid too much for me. Looking back at the past scenes, it is really wrong to be furious with my father again and again. At those times, how sad he should be, and why I understand now.
What I want to say is that as post-90s generation, we should not be willful and live up to our parents' expectations. So, from now on, let's repay our parents, love them and thank them for their selfless feeding and sincerity.
The third day diary composition 2 A.D. 1 179 It was sunny on May 5th.
I revisited Kongming Mansion with admiration. There are mountain pines and green grass here, and there are red flowers and ancient clocks here. Stepping lightly on the moss-stained green, the mountains come into view, touching the light dust on the calf, and my thoughts are excited; Listening to the faint bell, I feel empty. At the moment, there is quite a feeling of "I am humble, but I am virtuous". In the distance, larks sang about Kongming's achievements, like drums, and all the laughter and laughter disappeared. The grass at the foot is dancing with today's memories, thinking of three visits to the thatched cottage, feather fans and black scarves. Looking back at the battle of the northern frontier, I can't help but sigh, "A teacher shows his real name, who is better than ever." ?
A.D.1200165438+1thunderstorm night on October 4th.
"White hair and three thousands of feet, like a long beard." Now, I am old, but my heart is still in the northern sky, and I don't want to take it back for a long time. Seeing that the north is in an emergency, I can't go into battle to kill the enemy. Only "lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain, iron horse glacier dream." I nourish my life with poetry and miss my hometown. Whenever I miss my hometown, I can only catch a handful of poems. I can only watch my long-cherished wish with poetry, and I can only let poetry gallop in the smoke-filled room with heroic spirit.
Blizzard on1210121.
I'm dying at the moment, and my son is anxious to call a doctor for me. I frankly refused. Outside the Qingshan building outside the mountain, the Southern Song Dynasty is still full of songs and dances. People are intoxicated with drunkenness, and the whole city has been softened, and it has already been beaten by the wind and rain. This overflowing smell is tantamount to cutting a few more knives on my weak and sick body. People in China have long stopped reading poems and asking questions about state affairs. They are so numb that they want to be isolated from the world. Only I want to use sharp poems to turn into sharp halberds, use sarcastic tone to turn into flying arrows, use warning words to turn into hard shields and throw them into the northern sky together! I want to turn a rainbow with blood and stick to my homeland. I know my luck is running out, but I hope my son will remember: "Julian Waghann set the Central Plains Day in the north, and don't forget to inform Nai Weng about the family sacrifice!"
March 29th August 1 1 day.
In a small town covered with rain,
No one was late for the agreement between the two people before the stop sign;
Under the blue sky propped up by an umbrella,
The promise made has already been engraved on the wooden chair.
Never wiped it.
No one will care about the rain in eleven cities.
Purple dream concerto, the average law of blue memory.
I'm still writing about the only love.
Dim lighting
You're singing a song I can't guess,
I can't see clearly. I'm running away.
I will record our agreed love on paper.
Yellowing memories are still playing forever,
I will continue to create a century for you.
Sigh that I can't understand the other you,
My old testament diary makes you smile again,
Purple wind chimes are swaying outside the window.
My thoughts are still scattered.
All the poems written for you in autumn,
Record every concern I have for you,
Old Testament diaries secretly miss you,
Loneliness is like wine, waiting for someone who knows to taste it. Cold liquid slipped in from my mouth, but I didn't know what it was. The moonlight outside the window is like water, and the clear moonlight falls on me coldly. A thousand years of loneliness was born in my heart. I look at the north alone. I live in my own world, and I don't know or want to know what's going on outside. Until I met her.
She is as pure as the blazing sun, and I carefully protect her around. Once, I didn't dare to look directly at her smile. And make me feel that she doesn't belong in this time and space. What kind of feeling is too subtle.
I tried to maintain her innocence, and later found that I couldn't do it, and she would grow up eventually. Sulfone people are born with a curse, and she can't escape this sad trap.
The ancestors of the sulfone family offended the wrong people, and the descendants are like dolls. Let them play ... including me. ...
"Sulfone Guo people can't control the operation of blood vessels before adulthood. If not controlled, they will bleed to death within three months. If you live to adulthood in a certain way, you must ... "The stone marks carved in the historical sites are gradually blurred here and can no longer be distinguished. Tens of thousands of years of wind and rain, it is no wonder. I looked up with a wry smile. Bleeding from seven orifices is too cruel for a child.
Sulfone people have no childhood, and childhood is just an empty shell, which brings endless sadness. Before she came to me, I imprisoned all her memories and gave her a new name: You Qixue. Maybe many years later, I will regret this practice. But at least now I can smile calmly. I strengthen myself step by step. I don't want to conquer others. I just want to protect the people I cherish, no matter what I pay.
This is 8049. The second parallel world-Hecka Star.
My name is Feng Tianfan, and the story begins here.
It seems that it will be a few years in the blink of an eye. Even if one day, I will eventually forget these bits and pieces that happened in these three years, but the past that happened in dormitory 404 is in front of me. ...
I vaguely remember the first time I came to 404. The first person I met was Li Bo, and then I gradually got to know other people. I always felt something was missing when I first came to 404, but I got used to it later. For three years, this place has never been a peaceful place, and it has not disappeared by friction; These three years have never been a prosperous time in the early Tang Dynasty, and there has never been luxury. These three years are not the last years of the Eastern Han Dynasty. Everyone has his own happiness and sadness. Now, three years later, the song is over. ...
I still remember Sanjin and Xiao Nie's perfect endorsement of the treasure, which attracted Dong's desperate aircraft carrier style, the silent black line with the top sword of China and South Korea, and Li who looks like a rabbit and the handsome tiger forest. Who would have thought that these two very different people would become the border town that I have adhered to for three years, and I still remember the collapse of everyone caused by Wu Yuan's loud singing and Yang Rui's karaoke storm of always singing love songs. ...
As the ancients said, when the people around us gradually go away, it means that we are all growing up, but the feeling of growing up is really not so good.
We are all sad in different time and space, turn around and look for our own dynasty, and finally feel that all the famous mountains and rivers are brightly lit. There are always some people who tell you that Enemy at the Gates finally lost to the national anthem, and finally became a broken dream in a reaction without phenomena, melting between all the chaos in the world. ...
It seems that nothing has happened, but it will eventually become a cherished memory in my life.
Only a few words and a Kubinashi song left this song, for which I am very grateful.
At night, the moon generously shares its soft light, and I reach out to touch the faint moonlight. It is invisible. I missed it, but when I felt the softness of the moonlight, I couldn't help laughing. There are only cicadas chirping around, and I feel lonely and scared.
Perhaps, I am not so lonely, fireflies are flying slowly around me, they light up my world, and the road ahead shines again. Although it was only one night, I still cherish their lives.
The leaves rustle behind me, as if playing a song. I vaguely heard it. I'm not sure it was a song. Maybe it was a poem?
I looked up at the sky again. It was opaque, but the sky was faintly dotted with stars, blinking like eyes. I rubbed my eyes. Maybe they are dancing and matching those rustling leaves!
Night, quiet night, this silent, invisible night, is deposited in the deepest part of my soul. . .
Remember this article: Diary of Grade Three: Quiet Night. You can come to me often if you like. I am your "sister Xiu Xiu".
On a sunny morning, I overheard the familiar melody in that CD-"Tomorrow will be Better". Yes, that's the song! Suddenly, I stopped, and a feeling of intimacy as if I had seen an old acquaintance I hadn't seen for years immediately filled my whole heart. I can't help but think about it carefully: when did you hear this ... Oh, by the way, isn't this the song that was played at the last class meeting of the third grade last year? Oh, how unforgettable! Accompanied by this melodious melody, I couldn't help feeling the atmosphere of the class meeting at that time. ...
I remember that afternoon, before school was over, our third-grade 1 1 class had the last theme class meeting ... The weather was particularly sunny that day, and the orange-red sunshine near dusk slanted into the window, quietly flowing on every desk in the classroom, with affectionate faces. In the sunshine, we have mixed feelings and wait quietly with strange feelings, waiting for the last item of the class meeting-the ending song. Music sounded, and the song "Better Tomorrow" echoed throughout the classroom, everywhere. My heart seems to be moved by it, and the pictures of junior high school come to mind, and what happened in this classroom keeps reappearing in my mind. By my side, my classmates' hearts were softened by music, and tears infiltrated their eyes.
Now, this feeling has magically appeared again. Similarly, I still can't help recalling the past. Now, it's almost a year since I left the third grade, and how deep my feelings for the third grade are, as if something is closely connected with it in my heart.
Learning must be the most eternal theme of grade three. Because the face has been prepared for it for more than 1000 days of senior high school entrance examination. Tired, really tired, but I really don't feel bitter. Everything, in a hurry, seems to have accidentally jumped from grade three to grade one. Oh, maybe it doesn't hurt me to say that, but I really don't have that kind of learning pain in my heart.
In order to prepare for the senior high school entrance examination, the grade arranged extra classes for our winter vacation and every Saturday morning. Who doesn't want to have a rest? I didn't want to go at first! It was the first class after the summer vacation of Grade Two. Simply put some books and a pen in the morning, then ride a bike lazily and go to school by bike. Along the way, I watched the old man doing morning exercises and the overpass that I went out to play yesterday. The days of August are not over yet. I really want to turn around and go straight to the park! Ah, but I have no choice but to force myself to go to school by bike. But I don't know why, after two or three times, I don't hate making up classes so much. The teacher often tells us a story about the third grade, winding up the bare study with a long and interesting plot. In our hearts, we also have a sense of mission and are determined to embark on this road. Gradually, every Saturday, we will meet the sunshine in the early morning of the weekend and embark on the road of seeking knowledge. People have become diligent and relaxed, perhaps because they have a feeling of hard work and sureness in their hearts. It is so easy for you to like learning in grade three, just like a student who spent eight years in a daze and finally found his goal in life in the ninth year. For this goal, we are willing to study every day ... A little sense of accomplishment germinates in this small junior high school garden and grows up day by day, as if it is gestating a kind of strength.
Of course, I didn't come alone in the third grade. Maybe only when you are about to lose it will you feel the preciousness of a thing! My old classmates and friends who have been with me for more than two years will be separated in less than a year. In a few months, this still full of atmosphere and bustling classroom will be empty. A few months?
These 40-year-old friends looked at the blue sky yesterday and smiled. They graduated in the foreseeable future and parted ways in a blink of an eye. The rest of the room is empty, and we will accompany the next junior three students to play our story again.
Although we haven't studied with our old friends for a long time, we are not enveloped by this sadness of parting, but cherish this precious time more. "Learning", this is really the soul of grade three! Things that used to be opposed to it in some ways are now obediently assimilated by it: in the first day of junior high school, I put down my homework and went out riding with my friends; In the second day of junior high school, I put down my pen and picked up the phone to chat with my classmates. On the third day, I will accompany my old friends to choose books, review articles, collect review materials in various subjects and discuss exercises with them ... Has it changed? The old friend suddenly seemed to become the closest comrade-in-arms, and we all walked hand in hand. At that time, learning also became a bridge to convey friendship. On the riverside road in the west of that school, from autumn to winter, from winter to spring, we shed a lot of laughter-celebrating getting high marks in exams, celebrating solving problems, and having a "hodgepodge" chat. Hehe, optimistic we let the pressure of study melt away. On the third day, our teeth basked in the sun every day.
"Today, a new clinical diagnosis case of atypical pneumonia was reported in Beijing ..." When this string of voices inexplicably came out of the TV and knocked on your ear coldly, no one would have expected that our school life in grade three ended early in the warm and pure April. ...
That was April 22nd last year. In the morning, I heard a classmate say that classes would be suspended. I didn't believe it at that time, because the school broadcast the day before said that "there is no plan to suspend classes", and the class teacher Shi just arranged the daily disinfection plan of our class yesterday. Surprisingly, however, classes were suspended in the afternoon. The leaves of the green flowers that have just been watered at noon are still dripping. God knows this time, this potted flower will spend a month and a half alone, so that it will eventually dry up and die! But with it, it is a new study life.
What is the best way to describe it? Submarine must be good! From April 23rd, my life as a submarine officially began. On the first day after the suspension of classes, I opened the window. Oh, my god The road outside the window is brightly lit by the sun, and the roar of cars in the past has not only become very small. The street is quiet and there is a feeling of pantomime. Surprised? The sound of an ambulance in the distance explains all this-SARS is coming, and the city seems to have lost its soul. No wonder, in those days, more than 100 people living around us were infected every day ... perhaps because of the tense atmosphere in the early days of SARS. I persisted for ten days before going out occasionally. Open the window for ventilation and disinfection, and then sit in your small room and start reading and doing problems. Perhaps to get rid of the fear of SARS, I would rather study hard all day than stop. I'm afraid my brain will stop, thinking about the day when this virus will fall from the sky and scare myself.
It's different from school now. There is no teacher's explanation, and there is no teacher's supervision ... but it is no problem for me and I will get used to it immediately. After making a preliminary plan and arranging the time, I will review it in a down-to-earth manner. I can accomplish a lot of things every day, and I feel that time has been fully utilized as never before. Plans are being completed one by one, and the mood is getting more and more relaxed.
The desk calendar in front of that desk is covered with symbols such as "March Milestones". When studying, don't forget to communicate with old friends and chat with teachers. The distance in space can't stop me from studying with my old friends. Telephone, SMS, E-mail and online forums have suddenly become the main ways to communicate with the outside world, completely replacing going out. Also, I watched "Classroom in the Air" by Beijing Radio 8 the other night.
A month and a half passed quickly, and the senior high school entrance examination came directly. This SARS made a junior high school student learn to study independently, developed strong perseverance, and made him more confident. A student who just walked out of youth, faced with the double challenges of this natural disaster and life goal, laughed at the end with the strength and self-confidence he knew in it. All this has made great contributions to my life as a third-grade student in the year 20xx. It's amazing! I'm proud of it.
Junior three diary composition 8 self-degradation into a network person
Sleep began to shrink to 4 hours.
Since then, PC has been working non-stop.
Eye drops are dripping, too.
I started using internet addresses.
Took a name. -Even
Engage in modern occupations
A fisherman who doesn't eat meat? Network person
Xiao Qiang appeared at midnight.
Ideological erosion
The last leftovers were cold-roasted.
The cold in the middle of the night has greatly increased.
I'm practicing ing
No foreign bodies were found.
Record everything in front of you with DC
Report to the general manager in order to get the best equipment.
It's so depressing
Or more similar quirks.
Brush blame time n is long
Life is both positive and negative.
I relived it with ancient spells.
Password to enter the game
The number opens QQ.
How to enter the chat room? Paltalk
Let the souls of our network people roll.
Put away the cruel memories of PK process
The freshness of this issue has surprisingly driven PK into the city.
Not greedy for eternity, but loyal to violence.
The wind is unusually cold
This spirit
Lead the people
Write this prayer