Youth is a piece of white and flawless paper, and people can't help but pick up a colorful brush and smear it on it, leaving traces to write down memories. . . . . .
Youth is a romantic poem. Some people will condense those ups and downs, sweat, laughter and sadness into sentimental words, leaving a little touch and a little poetry. . . . . .
Youth is a beautiful song. Those passions and achievements converge into a string of notes, spinning and dancing, drawing our dreams in our hearts and drawing a blueprint for deploying people. . . . . .
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Youth is a cocoon. In the bitter coat, there is throbbing and hope. Waiting for the moment to break out of the cocoon, we will embrace the world. . . . .
Ten years of cold window, all kinds of tempering, in the golden October, in the fleeting time, when we silently miss the sand of time in our hands for three years, we finally ran past the hour hand of the wall clock and stepped into the university that we have long dreamed of. Here we begin to write another topic about youth, to touch the skin of youth with more real touch, and to feel the breath of hugging and kissing her in this last ivory tower.
However, it was discovered here that maybe we released not only youth, but also demons that have been silent for many years. Here we have more time, less pressure, more space and less nagging. We began to sleep until we woke up naturally, skipped classes and became more and more lazy. Too much time suddenly poured in, suffocating me like the sea, and I began to struggle and resist, but I really couldn't find anything that interested me anymore. So the dormitory became my universe, my prison and my grave. In this more and more time, I began to become depressed, numb and empty, and began to get used to staring at the computer screen with empty eyes. Floating icons can't hold my heart, but they are the best medicine to kill time. In this small prison, I began to doubt more than once whether my heart was released or imprisoned. In this emotional grave, I began to lose my sense of time and life. I clearly told my soul that I was about to lose myself, but how can I redeem my sealed heart and lonely soul?
College is the desire and pursuit of every young man who struggles in high school, but only when you really hug her will you find out what a great test everything here will be for you who are unprepared, and maybe you will soon lose yourself and indulge yourself here. Those who come and go around you may be more mature than before, but they also have more meaningless laughter. But life will always be your own, and nothing will change because of others. Just be yourself, although it is more difficult.
When winter goes and spring comes, bloom is full of flowers and the campus is full of vitality. Floating catkins, floating heavy, cheered in the spring sunshine and performed their short-lived happiness. Clusters of bright flowers are unwilling to be lonely, competing to bloom the beauty of this silent winter. Walking out of the dormitory that I haven't left for a long time, the warm sunshine burns my eyes, my heart and my soul like a soldering iron-is this life the result of my blood and tears, hard work, sweat and hard work in high school? Don't! This is by no means! On the road of youth, you may fall down because of high spirits, lose your way because of various temptations, or temporarily lose your dreams because of the cruelty of reality. But we can all find the right direction again and again, get up bravely again and again, and move forward without hesitation. Youth is perishable. If you waste it, time will abandon you. We are never afraid of losing, so even a brief confusion in college can't really blind our firm determination to pursue our dreams. When we first entered the university, we may really be unable to adapt to this self-management life. After all, we grew up and studied under constraints from kindergarten. Therefore, when we suddenly find that we have so much time to arrange, it is inevitable that we will hesitate and it is difficult to use our time effectively. But in such a beautiful season of youth, we naturally have to gain something. So, go out bravely! Join two or three clubs you like and ignite the blood of youth with a group of like-minded friends. Ignore the boring idea that it is better not to be a boss. As long as you have paid, shed tears and smiled, it will prove that your efforts have not been in vain, and I believe you will gain a lot there.
Try to enrich our college life, with more activities, more clubs, more part-time jobs, bold speeches and hard work. Flowers will reopen one day and people will no longer be young. We only have one youth, and twenty years old is the prime of life. We have plenty of youth to bloom freely, to cry stubbornly, to laugh happily and to fall in love vigorously. Because we are not afraid of losing, failure is an essential note of youth.
I hope to adopt it. It took a lot of time to write it. Thanks for your hard work!