Dwelling in the corner of the classroom, listening to the stress analysis of the physics teacher in an orderly way, helplessly looking at his watch and counting the class time. Students around me stood up to answer questions-either because of their excellent grades or because of their poor foundation.
Only I have been sitting. I was inadvertently locked in the corner of the teacher's heart, and there was a lock on the iron gate.
After class, I heard the students get together and chat. I also heard students praising a beautiful girl's new skirt and ugly people fighting for nicknames.
Only I have been quiet. Inadvertently locked in a corner of my classmates' hearts, there is a lock on the iron gate.
Therefore, I gradually learned to enjoy life without dialogue. I will look up at the sky before going to bed and tell myself that the stars are as lonely as me; I will fill my wardrobe with black, telling myself that pink, pink and willow green, which are only available in spring, do not belong to me.
The art festival came to the campus with the spring. There was a poetry recitation performance in our class, and the representative of the Chinese class next door strongly encouraged me to participate, claiming that I had found a poem that was very suitable for me.
I didn't want to, but I read this little poem curiously:
You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery, and the people watching the scenery look at you upstairs.
The bright moon decorated your window, and you decorated other people's dreams.
I don't know why, but I was really attracted by it and accepted it gladly.
After that, I practiced specially. Speech speed, pronunciation and intonation; Eyes, smiles, gestures. Over and over again.
On the day of the performance, I took off my black clothes for the first time at the suggestion of the Chinese class representative.
Standing on the high stage, I watched the students wearing bright spring clothes, which were warm and bright against the peach, red and willow green outside the window. It suddenly occurred to me that black is not just mine. So I smiled, and a crescent moon bent around my mouth.
You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery, and the people watching the scenery look at you upstairs.
The bright moon decorated your window, and you decorated other people's dreams.
Applause broke out. I can clearly see the face of the Chinese class representative, and every teacher and classmate has a smile on his face.
It turns out that many locks do not exist. In this prolonged applause, I realized that the door was actually open.