2018-04-22 15:50:09
my life could be shorter
Guo Jingming
Lonely you are standing in the vast world, the smart child is carrying a fragile lantern, the dashing you will put all your thoughts in the dust, the lonely child, you are the grace of creation.
I'm in high school. This is like a declaration, very imposing, the tiredness of the third year of junior high school has become a thing of the past, we are looking for the bright spots that can make people happy from the inside of our messy body , after all, youth is beautiful .
My high school was in another city and I lived on campus. The feeling of breaking the ties of home for the first time is impossible to say. A little fresh, a little lonely , a little missing . There is everything but after mixing, every feeling becomes like a shallow shadow, indistinguishable.
My high school is the key point of the province, and good students are like crucian carp crossing the river. I graduated from junior high school with the seventh grade in the district, which I thought was something to brag about. On my first day of high school , I lost all my pride when I couldn't find my name on the top 50 honor roll .
Friends do exist, but high school friends can be somewhat embarrassing. We are friends and enemies. We thought that we would lead to Rome by defeating each other, but the truth is that the whole country is full of soldiers, and the masters lurk in the unknown distance. But we really can't take a student who is like air tens of thousands of miles away as our pursuit target . The distance makes all the oppression all over the country concentrated in our school , and the rest are irrelevant to us.
I am a lonely child. Don't tell me high schoolers have great friendships , I'm brave enough to bite you to pieces. Friendship is our bet, we can throw anything out for the college entrance examination. I wasn't so pessimistic yet, the real disappointment came from my notebook disappearing one after another, from my reference book showing up on someone else's desk, from my learning new rules.
If you say that standing alone in the desert and guarding the big moon in the sky is called loneliness, then I agree; if you say that standing in the crowd of noisy people and being overwhelmed is also lonely, then I agree too. What I want to say is that the latter is not only lonely, but also cruel Lingchi.
High school is a three-year long lingering, and in the end, everyone perishes together.
I chose science and obeyed my father's order, which was very tragic because I sacrificed my will. In fact, I am full of yearning for the liberal arts life . Science students have to practice with a mind like water, but I am not enough. I am still thinking about the beauty and dazzling world of flowers outside, I am a person who is greedy for the world. Xiao A is my friend. He went to the liberal arts despite the opposition of the whole family. I admire him. Controlling your own destiny has always been a feat, and I can't.
At noon, I would go to Xiao A for dinner , and he told me that their exam question was to write the background of "Dream of Red Mansions". As I fantasized about the life that should have belonged to me, I struggled to find the thin air around me to breathe. When Xiao A looked at me, she had a pitiful look, and I was silent.
Science students have unparalleled neuroticism, which I lack. I don't do a force analysis on a flying football and imagine its trajectory, I don't see air bubbles in a pond and study if it's air or methane, I don't, but my classmates will, that's the difference.
No one attends the history and politics classes. The teacher talks about it symbolically and casually, and we listen to it casually below. Everyone has a science material in their hands. Stories full of philosophy and tragic history cannot impress them, and their rational nerves are indestructible. I think all this is very unreasonable, I looked into the teacher's eyes very religious, but he did not echo my passion . In the end, I had to give up . The environment where everyone did the question made me give up history and politics. Sometimes it's easy to compromise.
A science student in a school that emphasizes theory and ignores literature falls in love Nights . I'm a science student, I don't need sharp insight, I don't need beautiful writing, I just need to learn how to analyze how two balls collide, how metal bubbles when dropped in acid. It seems that I cheated.
I also write something, but the things I write are a little cold and damp, like moss growing in a dark corner. I hope that the things I write will be sunny and vibrant, but I can't. I always tell the story I want to tell in an indifferent, insensitive tone, even though I'm telling myself a lot of the time. My friend said, "Why do you talk about yourself in a calm tone, as if you are telling someone else's story?" I said, "I don't know . " "I said, "It's good to be moved by yourself, why move others?"
I used to read baby Anne's sharp, decadent words until they stabbed me to the point that I wasn't numb.
The teacher said: "Don't use those metaphors in your composition." I said yes; the teacher said: "You have to memorize this way of beginning and ending." I said yes; the teacher said: "This great writer You have to memorize your birthday." I said yes. I'm at a loss as to whether what matters is the writer's person or the writer's work. The more the teacher talked, the more at a loss I became. It was a black irony.
An internet writer said: "We all live in habit , we live like this today because we lived like this yesterday, and we lived like this yesterday because we lived like this the day before yesterday." Freud said: "It's the instinct of death. "
But I live at the speed of light. On Monday I was still struggling to say I wanted that red apple , and on Saturday I could write like moss. I don't want to live and grow old so fast . I want time to flow slowly at 1/ 10,000th of the speed , I want to see a tear fall under slow motion processing, blooming beautiful colors, but the person holding the remote control always keeps his finger on the "fast release" button .
Xi Murong asked, "When the image of life is shown quickly, do we still have the courage to continue the journey that is slowly unfolding every minute and every second?" I was also looking for the answer, and it was very hard to find it.