Eighth grade composition 1 dreams are everyone's. People say that dreams are opposites, but I don't think so.
Dreams are a continuation of reality and a harbinger of the future, showing your shameless, dark, lonely or greedy side. At every critical moment, Meng always came to an abrupt end, then got carried away and fell into pieces that could not be pieced together. The final outcome will be unknown and become an eternal mystery.
Recently, I always dreamed of a rainy afternoon. A handsome boy touched my head and said, it feels very green. Then wake up and the sun enters the pupil. But I just can't remember his face, vague, like our love.
I wonder why so many people suffer from depression. Is it really because people are easy to be sad now? I'm afraid I have such a tendency. I think schizophrenia is the most terrible symptom.
Imagine what it's like to have another personality or two personalities sitting next to you while you are sleeping, eating, drinking and having fun on you.
Think again, when you are a normal person eating, suddenly another personality is awakened, and then you control your body, pick up a kitchen knife and cut it backwards at your wrist. What kind of pain is that?
I don't know why, but I like to see blood and death in my dreams. I dreamed that I was alone at home, wearing red pajamas, opening the window with bloody hands, moving the chair to climb the clothes rack, looking at the sky, looking at the ground, and visually measuring my distance from the ground. I think I can finish a good work. Well, with open arms, like a meteor, I made a graceful flying arc and resolutely jumped down from the height of more than ten floors and fell vertically. In just a few seconds, a big red flower bloomed on the ground. In a few minutes, my masterpiece will be the focus of attention, but the police will destroy it and never appear again.
Of course, in real life, I will not refuse, and I will not waste my life like this. I'm rational, believe me.
Dad said that you are flying, running and growing in your dreams, so I think I will live up to my parents' expectations and surpass them to become a great giant in a few years. Dad also said that people dream because of several groups of pictures formed by brain wave control, so I want to deny my original statement and believe in Dad. Dad added, I think during the day and dream at night, so all my wishes can't be realized in my dreams. Dad said a lot.
I try to record my dreams when I wake up every day, but it's a bit unrealistic, because I had many interesting dreams a long time ago and basically forgot them when I slept.
I regret it, but I didn't get into the habit of recording dreams before. If I had written it all down, I would review it now. What a wonderful and proud story this will be. Maybe I can discover my potential personality or ability.
In the final analysis, dreams are dreams after all, and life will continue. After all, it can't replace reality.
I believe I will have a strange experience in my future dream, and then I will wake up and analyze whether I will have luck today.
If you and I are thousands of miles apart, let's meet in our dreams.
My mother is a piano teacher. She has taught countless students, and what bothers her most is probably my daughter student!
When I was three years old and eight months old, my mother began to teach me to play the piano slowly. She patiently guided me and told me that if I want to learn piano, I must practice for at least one hour every day.
Usually at home, besides doing homework and reading books, whenever she sees that I have nothing to do, she will ask me to practice the piano.
Over the years, I have been used to playing the piano every day. It's just that the academic pressure is getting bigger and bigger, and the tutoring time takes up a lot. Every time I go home, I just want to rest, and I don't want to practice at all. However, if you don't play for a day, you will feel very strange, as if you didn't do anything. So, even if I am tired again, I will sit in front of the piano and play for a few minutes.
My mother asked me with concern, "Are you tired? It's hard, isn't it? Learning the piano is like this. You must keep practicing to play well! "
I am not tired at all, because I like playing the piano very much. It would be great if I could be a piano teacher like my mother in the future. Therefore, I will practice the piano well, every day.
The third part of the eighth grade composition started school, and each grade of our school organized the annual opening ceremony. Today, our fifth-grade classmates came to the Confucius Temple on the road to work. We went to Stone Pavilion, Astrology Pavilion and Wenchang Pavilion ... Among them, I was most interested in wearing Hanfu and reading Sanzi Jing.
First of all, the teacher led us into a slightly narrow room where many precious calligraphy works were displayed. Some books have been marked, others are scattered pages, but in any case, the words on the paper are dignified and bold.
Further on, the announcer's aunt gave each of us a set of Hanfu to put on. So, we put on Hanfu in a hurry, and some students wrapped all four belts on their clothes and wrapped themselves into full-fledged "zongzi"; Some people turn their belts upside down; Then I tied the rope on my hat so tightly that I could hardly breathe ... Finally, with the help of the instructor, we finally knew how to wear Hanfu correctly, so you helped me and I helped you. With everyone's cooperation, we finally put on Hanfu. However, we can't help feeling: "It was too much trouble for ancient people to wear clothes!"
Then, we lined up and followed the instructor to learn various etiquette movements, such as bowing, that is, putting our left hand on our right hand and bending forward. When all the activities were ready, we took out the three-character sutra that the teacher sent us and read it aloud and solemnly with the instructor. No one is giggling, it's completely different from usual. I think: everyone should be infected by Confucius' unique literary charm! Confucius is really something!
This is really an interesting opening ceremony. Through the activities, I not only learned about Confucius, a great educator, but also appreciated the traditional etiquette of China, which made me feel the profoundness of China culture.
Grade 8 composition 4 1. Great things in the world must be done in detail. A kind smile can make people feel your kindness; A plain greeting can make people feel warm friendship; A neat homework can reflect your serious learning attitude; Casual comity can show your generosity.
Please write an article on the topic of "Look at you carefully", and fill in the appropriate words in the blanks, with your own style and ideas. About 600 words, no real school name, place name or person name can appear. .
2. The sesame oil and eggs sent by the sick Lao Wang warmed Jiang Yang's hard years; A Chang bought Shan Hai Jing in the street, which made Lu Xun's childhood very happy. Believers endure the hardships of the dusty journey and convey the expectations of the city and the countryside. Kindness is like the spring breeze in March, watering flower of life in the long years.
Please write a composition on the topic of "good charm".
There are often many feelings in life. Touched by great love in distress and help in difficulty; Touched, ignite English dreams and realize their ideals; Moved by the resolution of contradictions and the establishment of friendship; Touched, because of a smile in the crowd, a caring reminder and a greeting from relatives, I feel immersive.
Please write a composition on the topic of "moving".
3. Choose a topic and write a composition.
Topic 1: Write a composition on the topic "I have something to say to you in my heart".
Note: ① Write your true feelings; The article is not less than 500 words. Title 2:
Whether living in a noisy city or a quiet country, everyone will have a deep attachment to nature. Every time you walk into nature, you will always leave some unforgettable memories: perhaps watching the blue waves rippling, perhaps missing the path in the field, perhaps looking up at the bright moon in the sky, or listening to the beautiful scenery of cicadas singing in the branches will make you linger and be ecstatic.
Please write an article on "Indulge in _ _ _ _".
Requirements: ① Complete the question type; ② No less than 500 words.
4, composition-the teacher should appreciate your wonderful writing (30 points)
Question 1: At the Athens Olympic Games, Liu Xiang created a sports miracle in China at the moment of sprinting. The Indian Ocean tsunami claimed thousands of lives at the moment when huge waves broke out: the moment the teacher smiled in class, you were encouraged to raise your hand; The moment your mother touched you in front of the bed, you entered a happy dream, showing the glory of the result and hiding the hardships of the process; It shows the generation of strength, including the accumulation of emotions. Create history in an instant and condense eternity in an instant. Being good at capturing and feeling the moments of life will make life rich and wonderful. Please write an article of not less than 500 words with the topic of "the present" or "the present" combined with your own life experience.
Requirements: ① Tell the truth, tell the truth and express true feelings.
(2) finish the topic before writing.
Write a composition as required.
Please write an article on the topic "Happiness lies in _ _ _ _ _".
Requirements: ① Complete the topic; You can boldly choose the style you can control best, write what you are most familiar with and express your true feelings; (3) Don't appear the real school name and name in the text; No less than 600 words.
6. Write as required
The eagle's happiness is chasing boundless blue; The happiness of the forest is to weave dark green; Mother's happiness is to care for tender pink, and these happy colors constitute a colorful life. Students, do you know? There is a happier color in the minds of people who stand up on the ruins of Wenchuan earthquake. It is the bright red of the national flag and the olive green of the soldiers. It is
The orange of fire fighters is the white of medical staff. So, what's your happy color? Discover, describe, praise!
Please write an article of not less than 500 words on the topic of "the color of happiness". Style is not limited, except poetry.
7. writing. (30 points)
Once, I went on a trip: I flew from Taipei to Kaohsiung. After the plane took off, I saw a beautiful mountain from the window, full of flowers of all colors. I think it's strange. After living in Taipei for so long, why have you never seen such a beautiful mountain? So I asked the passenger next to me very quietly, "Excuse me, can you help me see what mountain is outside?" The other party took a look and said, "That's the garbage mountain in the inner lake!" " "I can't believe why the garbage mountain in Neihu is so beautiful. I soon understood that it was because of the height! Because I kept a high angle of view!
Everyone's life has such a "garbage mountain", with setbacks, regrets and pains. If we can ignore the length of a day and pay little attention to success or failure, we will not be polluted by the "garbage" of the past, and even wait for such a day to appreciate its beautiful side in a higher place. Looking back, we will find that the insurmountable difficulties that troubled us at that time were so insignificant! That's because time gives us height. Life is like this, don't care too much about worthless things, be kind to yourself and realize your life value in transcendence.
Please write an article on the topic of "transcendental beauty".
8. We got the care of the society, the warmth of the collective, the care of our parents and the education of our teachers. We accept too much understanding, care and love, and we also want to and try to care about society.
Care about others. Caring is a kind of dedication, caring is a kind of dedication, caring is a virtue. Let's start with the little things in life, learn to understand, learn to care, and learn to be human. Please write a composition of not less than 600 words with the theme of "Caring for Life" in combination with your own life experience.
When I was growing up, songs always accompanied me. When I am sad, it will make me happy; When I am depressed, it will make me happy; When I am upset, it will calm me down and quietly enjoy the auditory feast it brings me.
When I was a child, the song that often echoed in my ears was: "There are a group of ducks swimming under the front bridge. Come and count, 24678. " Whenever I put on a CD and hear such a sound, I always put down everything in my hand, shake my head with the melody and sing a few words from time to time, not to mention how happy I am!
When I was a child, what I heard was music transmitted by nature. At that time, I liked the hill behind my grandmother's house very much, and I liked the shiny golden rape flowers at the foot of the hill. The wind blew through the rape blossoms. I appreciate the ripples in the sea of flowers, and at the same time listen to the light music played by the wind on the branches, as well as the clapping of poplar leaves around me. At present, this pheasant "Goo Goo", which is "heroic" but can't be caught, seems to be playing drums for this romantic ensemble. Lying quietly on the grass, you will feel cicadas singing in the wind. Listen carefully again, and you will hear: the sound of flowers, the sound of leaves, the sound of clouds walking ... this is the music created by nature.
Bigger, I grew up with the accordion. I am very grateful to my parents for finding such a good partner for me. When they took me to the window of the piano room, a big black man attracted me. It's hard to imagine how such a solemn thing can interpret my favorite voice. A curiosity drove me and decided to go in and find out. I looked at the teacher's back, my left hand played a nice rhythm, and my right hand opened and closed with the rhythm. In front of me, it has lost its seriousness, and it has become an elf dancing on the staff. It's fantastic! At this moment, I fell in love with this "box" that surprised me. I especially want to know what's in the bellows, what's in the keyboard and what's in the bass. In order to explore, I embarked on the road of developing musicalism.
What I like now is pop music and rock style. Those things will relax my nervous nerves. Although my life in grade three is boring, like a heavy and slow C-major, I firmly believe that the road ahead is always bright. Because the song often says: "The sun is always after the rain, how can you see the rainbow without experiencing it?" "If you don't pay, how can you talk about return?" . These have been encouraging me and telling me: how can I give up easily until the end?
I always feel that I am happy and lucky. Because I found a bosom friend, I found a pistachio to relieve stress. It is music that moistens my soul, and it is music that keeps me growing. I can only say: "Music, you are my best friend!" " "
When I have nothing to do, I always like to look through the traces of the passage of time, and inadvertently turn to an album that has already been dusty.
This photo album is like a childhood memoir, full of ups and downs. There is a sad face, a sweet smile with achievements, and a sleepy face full of fatigue. A series of memories are connected by love, and the outline of childhood is outlined.
Which photo did I turn to? I was shocked. It was taken in kindergarten. This photo seemed to take me to that afternoon. On that day, the kindergarten held a talent show as scheduled, and the hot sun exposed the open-air stage, and the ruthless sunshine burned people.
Maybe it's the weather. Few parents were invited to watch, but they surrounded the stage again and again.
I squeezed into the crowd, trying to find the familiar figure, looking for a long time, disappointed. I pushed hard and got together with the whole class to prepare for the performance. The audience under the venue is like chrysanthemums in the hot sun, all depressed and lifeless, and the atmosphere at the venue is gloomy.
Halfway through the conference in a daze, the monitor said that I had to March in a hurry and woke me up-it's time for us to go on stage. At this moment, the sun suddenly softened, a slight breeze blew, and the applause and cheers at the venue boiled again, which greatly boosted our morale and won the third prize successfully.
Just when I was still immersed in disappointment, I accidentally took over the teacher's words, which made me overjoyed and a little proud-Zhang Shiqi's father in our class not only went to the appointment to watch the press conference, but also forgot the test of the hot sun. His daughter shouted and cheered deafening applause, uncontrollable clapping and profound applause and enthusiasm at the meeting.
All the previous complaints were fleeting and vanished, leaving only pride and excitement.
This photo reminds me of my childhood and the world under my father's protection. Looking back on the past, these humble little achievements are great events for parents. Perhaps those prizes have long been buried in the hard-to-return soil, but they will always be stored in parents' minds and will never disappear with the passage of time.
My hometown, like a red cloud on the horizon, floats slowly, emitting lingering breath and color, enticing me into her arms.
Occasionally, I drive back to my hometown to look out of the window, and the scenery is getting familiar. Pond, camphor tree by the pond, bird's nest on the tree, and several birds in the nest. I couldn't bear to press my feet at once, so I had to get off and take a walk to measure the passage of time by myself. When I set foot on my hometown, my eyes suddenly turned red. Hometown, I'm back again.
The sunshine in my hometown is always warm and abundant. Although the sun is setting, the rosy glow is still covered with the earth and the bricks of every household, and every smoke in the kitchen is dyed red. Submerged in the sunset, there are children laughing at home, birds coming home late, old cows with blood-red fur and horns, bursts of wheat fragrance, and some memories gradually outlined. I found my past step by step in the bloody sunset.
Walking, I came to the most familiar dirt road. The road is widened, but the soil is still slightly fragrant, and the flowers on the roadside are yellow and white wild chrysanthemums. How many wonderful times have I buried on this path? How many of my fingerprints are printed on that wrinkled old tree?
Walking along the path, by dinner time, every household was filled with the aroma of food. The path is silent, only the sunset is still telling, as if to say "good night" to this quiet village. Miles away, the sound of cars is harsh and noisy; And here, in addition to tranquility, there is only tranquility.
Gradually, there was a trickle. In silence, it doesn't seem to flow on the earth, but in my ears and my heart. I just remembered that there is a small river near here. The evening breeze blows gently, sending the sound of the river to every corner of the village. A day's irritability was washed away at this time, leaving only the tranquility of the night.
The setting sun sank inch by inch and finally disappeared on the horizon. Dogs began to bark, owls began to coo, and children threw down their schoolbags and began to play. At this time, it is a paradise for children. No homework, no teacher, no parents. There are children on trees, haystacks, fields and even roofs. Suddenly I feel that their laughter is the best sleeping song in the sunset.
Finally, unconsciously, the path came to an end. I look back, footprints, has been extended to here. I walked from the other end of the path to this end, from childhood to adolescence, from once to now, from now to the past.
The afterglow of the sunset completely disappeared and the sky turned dark blue. Every household is lit up. I turned around and set foot on the familiar and warm homeland again, heading for home.
Autumn is a beautiful season, and you can always see dancing golden leaves.
One by one, corn is being harvested. After the efforts of spring and summer, they are inlaid with glittering gold beads given to them by autumn. They are proud of today's achievements. I don't know how many storms they have experienced in spring and summer to get today's tight and full golden beads.
Potato's character is always very low-key, and it is shy to hide in the embrace of the soil. When it is turned out, it will be shy, hoping to absorb more nutrients, and the longer it grows, the bigger it will be.
The apples in my hometown are ripe, red and green, emitting attractive fragrance. In order not to make people think that he is small and has pests and diseases, these apple babies try their best to lick nutrients until they become the king of apples, grow their own bodies and resolutely defend their bodies with their strong resistance.
Now we are like corn, potatoes and apples in spring and summer, studying hard and overcoming difficulties. Teachers are like fallen leaves under a tree, willing to devote themselves to cultivating talents in the motherland and quietly integrate into the soil.
In order to be a useful person in the autumn of life without feeling sorry, feeling inferior, complaining and being eliminated by this society, we should study as hard as corn, potatoes and apples, overcome difficulties, expand our advantages and live up to the fallen leaves in the soil. Work hard!
Suddenly, I found that figure so fragile. ...
It's time for lunch, so I quickly settled my lunch. Just as I was about to leave, he stopped me. I was suddenly at a loss, like a blow to the head, and I felt strange. I don't know what I did wrong, so I turned around and said, "What's the matter?"
He just said, "No, let's talk!"
I thought, talk? I don't know what this concept is in his mind. I only know that this "chat" has a double meaning to the post-90s generation, but I don't want it to have the opposite meaning this time, but I don't know what will happen next. ...
Then, we started the topic. Unexpectedly, this conversation is so ordinary, it's all commonplace, from trivial matters to my future. But-he is a man, how can he tell me this? These are things that even my mother didn't tell me. As a man, he told me a lot, and at the same time, he seemed to let me know more than I could count. If I had to name a number, I think it would be countless.
From the conversation, I can feel that he thinks a lot about my future and thinks very carefully, but I am only 15 years old. He always said that I can have whatever I want, as long as I like it. Yes, he won't care about me either, but I guess he must want me to stay with him forever. If I leave him one day, he will be very sad, but he won't tell me, because he won't want me to worry about him.
Looking back suddenly, I think of the road he accompanied me. We have come a long way together. Muddy roads, smooth roads, there will be footprints we have walked. Bend down and look at those footprints, big and small, deep and shallow. Those footprints are milestones in my growth process, with the shadow of my stumbling growth and the shadow of my happy growth. At the same time, I was full of his scolding, criticism and praise, as well as his smile, but I never "cried". Now that I think about it, I have never seen him cry.
Suddenly he called me and said, "What are you thinking?" Then I turned around and said, "Oh, nothing."
At this moment, there was silence around, and the air seemed to condense together. He stopped talking, only heard his heavy breathing, just like mine. I'm afraid this is a kind of fate.
Suddenly he said, "well, you remember what I told you today." Say that finish, he walked out of the restaurant. I just wanted to get up and leave, but I found an unknown secret.
His back is too fragile ... not as strong as before. Maybe he's getting old.
In everyone's memory, there will always be some memories about childhood. Piece by piece, just like a part of a film. String together and break into pieces.
Grandma's house is so old. The board is shabby yellow, with lime and yellow mud in the middle. The window is a wooden lattice, a small window, which shines into the house at noon. Grandma doesn't like turning on the light, saying it's a waste. Therefore, the room was dark at night. At that time, grandma kept a lot of ducks and always went to catch them alone before dark. I am the only one left in the spacious old house. I sat on the threshold of the house. A big house is like an endless mouth, which will devour everything. I dare not turn around, breathe carefully, dare not make any noise, and hide behind the door. Grandma found me, held me in her arms and hummed me to sleep. I have been trying to remember that song for many years. But I can't remember anyway. Grandma is too old to walk. She also forgot this song.
There are high mountains, clear rivers, large paddy fields, tall eucalyptus and locust trees and dense bamboo forests behind grandma's house. It was my childhood paradise. Almost all the children my age in grandma's yard are girls. Sister Xiao Min is the oldest in our group. In spring, she took us to the mountains to pick wild flowers and fruits. The most interesting thing is the summer night. We catch fireflies in the bamboo forest with flashlights, then put them in a small bottle, and then I will proudly tell my grandmother that this is my victory. When sleeping at night, in the dark mosquito net, fireflies suddenly escape from the mysterious sea like naughty stars to play. In autumn, the bamboo leaves in grandma's backyard fell to the ground. We dug a small stove with a small hoe, picked up the old pot and put it on the stove, using bamboo leaves as fuel and cooking "vegetable leaves" to play house. No one has eaten the taste of that leaf, but when I think about it, a faint fragrance seeps into my teeth and cheeks. After all, it is the first time to cook. Winter is the most annoying season. In winter in the south, there is no flying snow in the north, and there is no vitality in the Woods. You can no longer cook in the bamboo forest. Sister Xiao Min took me to grandma's attic to read picture books and tell stories. At that time, Sister Xiao Min was my most admired person. She knows many words and can write, tell stories, draw and sing by herself.
Fuzzy focal plane. I can't remember what kind of wild flowers we picked, what kind of games we played, how many times we cooked vegetable leaves, and how many stories we heard about Xiao Min's sister. I only remember the happiness and innocence of the children at that time.
I left my grandmother's house when I was six years old. Because I'm finally going to school this year, I'm finally going to learn the songs that Xiao Min's sister can write and sing. There are so many children in the school! Some people write better than Sister Xiao Min, while others sing better than Sister Xiao Min. In my little eyes, what a wonderful world this is! I began to have my own friends and teachers; Began to learn to write and write a composition; Start learning to sing and dance; Began to learn to read more wonderful stories than Xiao Min's sister told; Begin to learn pride and willfulness; Began to be praised and criticized by teachers; Begin to learn to think slowly; Began to have their own ideals; I began to have the life I wanted to pursue. Many years have passed, and I left my childhood behind and left those simple and beautiful things in the corner. I only care about my blind pursuit, happiness and pain alone, standing at the crossroads confused and at a loss. And that means I want to go back to those carefree days when I lost my childhood. Just like when I watch the weather, I always want to see what is out of sight, but I can't see it clearly.
Life is a sport, and our steps are scales, so we should leave clear footprints on the beach of years. How long does it take to spread out day by day? How much happiness and pain will there be? How strong and fragile will it be? We gather at the lakeside of the years and use the experience of life as the annotation of growth.
I will put all the beauty and emotion into the title page of my memory and cherish it. Let the touching music of life revolve in my world.