Walking to the song: At the age of sixteen, I am a little more persistent
I have been looking forward to the dreamy flower season, the multi-flavored age, the flying youth, the children and adults The bond between us. Finally, my flowering season is no longer a dream.
I long for that beautiful sixteen years old, like poetry and pictures; I dream of that beautiful sixteen years old, like springs and streams ; I look forward to that beautiful sixteen years old, like a rainbow, like clouds; I look forward to that...
Sixteen years old, what an attractive age! How intoxicating! But in such a I seem to get something different in the blooming season! But what is it?
At the age of sixteen, I am no longer a child. I have my own ideals and a vision for the future. But all of this requires us to fight! So what remains in my flowering season is persistence, persistence, and persistence.
At the age of sixteen, I stayed in the classroom all day long for my goals. I took the textbook and "gnawed" it from head to toe. Sometimes I "gnawed" my teeth out, but I still couldn't remember it!
So I made up my mind to use my persistence to illuminate the progress. The way.
I carefully memorized the words in the English Book, "Zhihuzheye" in the Chinese Book, and the formulas in mathematics and physics... I was quite interested in this before. But then I got bored. After I started to distance myself from them through the "cold war", every exam failed miserably.
It was raining non-stop outside the window, and I was walking on that familiar path. Suddenly a butterfly came from me Flying by, even though its wings were wet, it was still flying. Finally, the rain became heavier and heavier, and I couldn't help but pick up the umbrella and put it above my head. Only to see that brave guy still walking through the rain again. Big raindrops hit its thin body and it fell down. I walked closer to look at it and found that it was still flapping its wings. When I was about to help it, it miraculously flew up. Looking at it, I was shocked, and the umbrella slipped from my hands unconsciously. I let the rain flow from my face, just because I felt the true persistence.
I finally realized that all the hard work I had gained before It’s just a taste, a small wave in the ocean. Yes! At the age of sixteen, it’s time to be persistent. It’s time to have goals that belong to your own control.
At the age of sixteen, and It is not as beautiful as I imagined. It is not as beautiful as the poetry and painting in my fantasy. It can even be said to be a bit bitter, but I like that bitterness. In the flower season of sixteen, how can the "flowers" bloom without absorbing "nutrients"? I I have a persistence that is no longer hazy.>
The years are like the sunshine on a certain winter morning, through the shadow of the trees, carving mottled memories, halos and colors on the earth. Growth is the driving force. The train in the wilderness, the petals along the way, the journey that rumbles through the vicissitudes of life, running, endless. Youth is the blue platycodon blooming in the countryside, quiet and grand, every trace of fragrance is overflowing with strange power, tranquility, shock... …
The years on the left hand, the future on the right hand. I stood on the corner of 16 years old, and the street lights stretched my shadow. Closing my eyes, I saw the years rewinding. Some people, some loves, are hard to let go.
When I was a child, I was like the flying catkins by the pool, blowing and fluttering towards the shallow sky. Grandma’s lingering lullaby, Grandpa’s Tai Chi, and my sister’s nose hanging with two streaks The little face, the little red flower that I can never bear to pick off... Those first profound moments in life are the memories of the time when the petals were scattered in the long river, so sincere and beautiful. I still remember that the sun was shining brightly that day, and I took my sister and ran in the spring breeze. Silver-like smiles, carefree steps, our figures gradually become indifferent as time goes by, and the two small back figures are about the vague image of childishness.
First contact with textbooks , the first time I learned ABCD, the first time I read Bing Xin’s prose, and the first time I admired Newton. Eight years ago, I held my mother’s hand, walked into a small office, and knocked on the door to my growth. Once a person begins to grow up, time begins to flow rapidly. The 6 years of primary school are the beginning of the turbid sobriety and confusion. 6 years are too long, and many branches and leaves have gradually been blurred. So far, only the teacher's face and the children's faces are clear. The laughter and the fluttering red scarf, I miss this time so much. Maybe people are always too nostalgic, and are always good at seeking the comfort of reality in the people and things that have passed. The past childhood has finally passed, like slipping by The silk and satin in the palm of my hand are so delicate and cruel that only the aftertaste is left. Fortunately, I still remember you and the most shining moments. They are firm memories of life, which become more and more beautiful as time goes by. Understand.
14 years old is the end of childhood and the pure beginning of boyhood. I still remember the days in the late spring and early summer of that year, when the cicadas sang in the wind, and the green and bright eyes met in an instant. The moment when their eyes met. , is it that the years are too hasty, or is it a three-year appointment with youth? There is no way to verify it. I just remember that after a baptism of military training, youth quietly kicked off, and life was engraved with the thread of fate in our palms. We are the process of youth. Traveling companions on board, watch the sunset and the morning light all the way.
The transition at the age of 14 is an obscure ditty, and the exploration at the age of 15 is the desire and confusion to escape from the cocoon. In the past two years, personnel, They are photos flying in the wind, including the pranks we made during our spring outings, our embarrassment during exams, and our gritted teeth when we ran... Every drop of tear may penetrate into the soil of youth and breed a huge... The future.
And now, I am 16 years old. The vines of memory wrap around my body, penetrating every love from childhood and childhood into my body and penetrating into every cell of my body. In In such lonely years, in such struggling years, I silently miss every bit of the past, every minute. But I also deeply feel that life is exerting a powerful push, making me say goodbye to the past and look forward to the future. Move forward. I understand, I understand. At the age of 16, I already know what I am pursuing. I will not stand still. I can’t wait for new memories to enrich my life. Please allow me to carry a small With nostalgia, we sing all the way forward.
If the years can be drunk, let us raise a glass to the bright moon and see the shadows of the light years; if the autumn leaves can be used as notes, let us inscribe poems of love and send them to In the heart of that person; if youth can be a gamble, let us 16-year-olds bathed in memories, sing about the future, and bet on a glorious tomorrow!