When I look back that year of high school life, only to find memories have been the rain, like last night knocked the petals, a wet plain. Even if the puzzle, they can only hit some fragmentary pieces, as if the year is to take advantage of my time to go to school every day across the playground when the school quietly Liu Qu.
You may want to say that high school life was too monotonous, and there is no change, so it has become so vaguely recalled it?
Oh, no, this year\'s life is not enough \"monotonous\" to describe: the right life, doubts, fear of new things, smug hope of unsatisfactory performance ... ... all of which have become elements of life, filled my mind was not well-off space. At one time, I could feel like living in the wilderness, the dry land, Liao Kuang sky is the only background.
However, later I was surprised to find countless surrounded by blooming flowers, but I have been invisible.
How those flowers jump into my eyes it? To say that up would have to re-piece together into one such image: a dazzling scores, empty feeling, I do not know of my return. A week, my face is the tightly stretched and can not unlock the shackles of their own hearts. Apart from close friends of course, comforting to encourage a few ah? Is not really good friends, right? \"
She indifferent smile, said: \"I was thinking, peace is the best for you. I am anxious for you, but your mind is not calm, I was the reason to move out over cars, you will receive it? \"
Suddenly surprised, I am reminded of his mother. During that time, my grumpy extreme, her mother could only stand beside Yi Yi, left to me incomprehensible to temper. She did not know what I am in school, why not happy, she thought must be very anxious. However, she never asked, afraid of my doubly. She remains the same for my side on the hot meals, send me out, and then come back with a tired waiting for me. 35 Writing Network
But me? I stubbornly believe that she did not know, what did not understand, does not know that the most ignorant that it is me. Shi Tie-sheng of the mother\'s miserable, and now I finally understand.
San Mao said, everyone has a flower, it is not the Atlantic, not in the Sahara desert, but in the window of heart on each person. Yes, I finally saw, and more than one.
As a result, bear the memory gradually confused, because I learned to my heart forget life planted flowers yesterday, put the present road.
Inhabit the mind there are many, and I chose the wilderness of flowers everywhere.



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