The annual rings of time have quietly turned for sixteen years, and the silk thread of life has been pulled for sixteen years. I grew up unconsciously, but I didn't understand until I knew it. ...
No longer the little girl clamoring for her mother to tell a story, she won't cry for a doll, but often sees herself gradually taking off her childish coat in the mirror, thinking about how to stop worrying her mother and father too much. The taste of growing up is understanding
I don't sing Little Gong Hao as before, but I am often moved to tears by Two Springs Reflecting the Moon, savoring the sad life thoughts left by the blind A Bing. The taste of growing up is to realize life.
Instead of deliberately writing two typos in the exercise book to examine the teacher's eyesight, I am often grateful for the teacher's gray hair, wrinkles on his forehead and chalk-stained fingers. The teacher's earnest teaching and tireless help have made me have a deeper understanding of "spring silkworms die, and night candles burn their wick." Therefore, no distractions, forget the sea of books, bow to the case and work hard until dawn. The taste of growing up is gratitude and reward.
Instead of arguing with classmates over a disagreeable sentence, I often drink a steaming cup of Kuding tea in the dead of night, watch the dark blue night sky, calm my impetuous heart, count the stars and fall asleep with my dreams. The taste of growth is maturity.
The taste of growth is that a small seedling on the ground longs to grow into a towering tree.
The taste of growing up is a fish in the sea, eager to jump over the Longmen and swim in the sea.
The taste of growing up is that a bird in the sky longs for freedom to fly high and the sea of clouds fights freely.
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Experience the taste of growth. It seems sour and sweet, spicy and salty, sad and happy, sad and sentimental. It bothered me 16 years, and then let me immerse myself in my soul forever. ...
Ugly slave teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow and fall in love with the floor. Fall in love with the floor and worry about adding new words. Now that I know what it's like to worry, I want to talk about it. I want to say I'm still resting, but I say it's a good autumn. When I was young, I didn't understand the sadness of life, but I thought I was sad and wrote poems to tell my troubles. But now, when I really know what is the sadness of life, I can't say it if I want to, but I can only sigh the sadness of this autumn.
"I am a happy little Barbie" I always say to myself, but every time I say this. Adults always show an inexplicable expression. They don't know why I am happy.
Perhaps because of my childhood, I never knew what "sorrow" was, what it tasted like, and was it sweet? Is it salty? Acid? Bitter? Yes, I really don't know. Although I want to taste it myself countless times, every time someone else always wants to taste it, I have never been sad.
Dad and mom are busy running around all day. I seldom talk and laugh when I go home every day, but I am different, always so lively and cheerful. Once, I couldn't help it, so I asked my mother why she was worried. My mother said to me with a wry smile, "I don't want to worry either, but I can't help worrying ... alas!" ..... you children can't understand the distress of adults ... "After listening to this sentence, I still don't know what" worry "means, but I thought," Mom and Dad and even all adults may be very tired. They are troubled by fame and fortune, money, marriage and life all day. People in the world are treated differently. If their family is poor, they are distressed by money. Again, poor academic performance will worry about the future of children; Young people are troubled by their careers when they can't find a job; People in the upper and middle classes think about "changing jobs" and "promotion" all day. They are scared every day and secretly intrigue with their colleagues. This is for fame and fortune. Suddenly it seems that their lives have lost their meaning. They look at life too bleak, and their lives have lost a lot compared with those of us naive teenagers. Adults are really not as happy as we are. Maybe we haven't grown up yet and won't understand our parents' worries for the time being. However, I still believe that no matter how life treats me, I will live happily.
"Time can change everything" is a truth. Maybe when I have experienced what my parents have experienced, I will also become "sad". If that's the case, then I'd like to be so big forever. As a teenager, I am always so sunny and happy, and I never know what "worry" is.
Time flies like the wind. Sitting alone in a rocking chair, the small building in the pavilion is fresh in my memory, as if it were yesterday. Listen carefully, who is whispering outside the window. Once upon a time, when I was young, I always raised my tender face and looked up at the sky in ignorance. Now, however, there is a trace of sadness in my brow, and the occasional haze often attacks me. Holding up the pen and book, the revelation between the lines has spread to the feeling that "teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow and are forced to say it for adding new words". Let the years record all the dreamy memories. In my memory, there are you and me.
Walking in the street, watching the endless stream of pedestrians pass by. There are always beautiful girls shining in front of me. Their pure breath and the most beautiful smile on their faces remind me of me in those days. The memory of my childhood is still in my mind. In my memory, Quanzhou was originally a small town. This town is full of a small me. I am happy to spend every day. The town in my impression is beautiful and elegant, just like an old man, washing away all the vicissitudes of life, and what catches my eye is the beauty beyond the secular. I often go to play by the stream with my friends. Where the water is clear, people are clear, fish jump in the water and people laugh on the shore. At this time, we naughty children will sneak into the water to catch fish when adults are not looking, and then flee back to the shore and show off our "achievements" by holding the fish in front of adults. I am so cute in my impression. Whenever loquat is ripe, I will beg my parents to make me a small bamboo stick, pick the loquat that I can't reach, and then carefully put it in my pocket, and always emphasize: this is mine, don't take it from me. Think of these memories, my mouth always raises a smile.