Hehe, have fun

The dull air is close to the chest, I can hardly breathe. I long for a sea, eager for the air containing water to hold me in my arms, but all my eyes are illusory...

I warned myself, don't complain anymore. The only thing I can do in front of me is to pick up my exam materials and push them into my mind so that the high school entrance examination can smoothly pull them out. However, my heart is very chaotic, unable to calm down, it is struggling, struggling, wanting to break through this dull and suffocating air. Finally, my feet did not listen to the call, the freedom, free to release the body. The heavy pressure in the heart was excreted, and then it was a scene of my game with my classmates. In that free class, I rushed out of the classroom and organized my classmates to play the eagle to catch the chicken. Our shouts are screaming and running freely, as if everyone was liberated at that moment, not to swear by the throat. The plumeria next to the corridor is filled with fragrance, and it embraces our carnival. Perhaps only the plum blossoms know the preciousness of these carnivals. Only a teacher will disturb the order of her class. This game is interrupted.

At the moment when the petals landed, it cut through the air and left a fragrant fragrance. For those who play carelessly, we are in love and look for the next game.

The tree was full of immature mangoes, and the acidity passed through the tip of the mouth. Yes, they are calling me, shaking their hearts that make us irritated and dull. Finally, we once again provoked the game of Yaxing - a group of girls under the mango tree are jumping between the grass, wanting to bring the high mango back to the hand in a moment, the screams, faintly in my mind, It seems to be by the ear. But I want to listen to my ears, but I find that it does not exist. It is just a precious memory. The sweet and sour taste that was instantly released when the mango fell off the branches, still makes me relish a few times. But when everything is fixed in this sweet memory, the uncle who is interspersed with it: "What are you doing?" But it breaks everything down. The feeling of loss in that moment is like watching the original bright rose petals fall to the ground and can only feel the silence.

I stopped....

Oh, the game! Time and time again, I tried to suppress my inner feelings in the screams, but I was blocked again and again. Is the game only a play? Is it as a teenager that we should sneak in the ocean of knowledge from sunrise to sunset or even break the night? Our youth, our ardent enthusiasm is gradually being masked in the sea of ​​knowledgeless fun, but who can understand?

Oh, the game! At this moment, I feel that the joy of playfulness is as close as a star, but I can't put it into my palm, staring at the light it gives me...

Tongren Art Experimental School, the first day: Ding Jian