High school inspirational: unbeaten

The more than three hundred days and nights of the third year of high school, just like a flower of a colorful flower, is in everyone's heart. Maybe not every flower is beautiful and earth-shattering. Not every flower is fragrant and shocking, and not every flower can bear fruit. But those flowers really bloomed in the softest part of everyone's heart, and they really left some sweet flowers. The shadow of these flowers, together with the third year, gives us a pair of mature eyes that we use to see the world today. This unforgettable influence will affect every choice we make in the future, every decision. Like the water flowing years, the flowers bloom, we stand by the rivers of the years, watching the water clear and clear, the river is full of colorful, and the lost years.

--Inscription

I don't know how to write it. I don't know exactly what kind of text to use to completely tie up the mood of the year, let them hang like a beautiful crystal without losing the original taste, let you share, let you understand.

When I wrote this hot, the first character of August, I suddenly noticed that many unidentified flowers bloomed in the window, red, yellow, pink, blue, and green. The ground is together, full of beautiful colors. God, what time are these flowers open? This kind of momentum should not be only a few days.

I don't know if these flowers are so beautifully open this year. If so, I think I should thank them. I smelled a lot of sweet smell in the air, and a very beautiful word suddenly popped up: unbeaten!

Unbeaten.

Unbeaten!

I think I can finally calm down and tell you a lot of stories that happened in the past year. I think no matter what happens in the future, every bit of the year, I will never again. forgotten.

In the week before the start of the third year, a parent meeting was held.

It was a very serious parent meeting, no one was absent, and no one was late for the parent meeting. At that meeting, the teacher mobilized almost all the emotions of the parents. The importance of the third year of high school is not to be overstated. The so-called "Chengye is also a high school, and the defeat is also a high school." No matter how brilliant the children are in the past, no matter how much they fail, the class teacher is so thin and thin, she leans on the side of the podium. It is two hours of high morale. It is nothing more than letting us believe that things are possible, miracles or evils will come out dramatically in this year.

In order to let each student clearly understand their position in the class, grade, and even in the district and the city, the school has carefully produced a ranking table for each grade of high school and high school. Now think about it, I have to admit that the watch is really too detailed. The total score of each grade, the ranking of the scores, and the average scores in the grades, and even the carefully designed results curve of the results, and finally a detailed analysis of the comprehensive ranking. It was a painstaking effort to fill a piece of paper densely.

The father came back from school with a sullen face, and the situation was not as optimistic as I expected: the ranking was 290. Terrible location.

"There is hope. The teacher said, anything is possible." The father said that he believed in me, but I did not know if I should believe in myself again. However, there is no way out. We are the pawns of the river, we can’t look back.

I only have to spur the horse and fight for it. I am worthy of my parents and I am worthy of my teacher. The most important thing is to be worthy of myself.

In the long preparation period of eleven years, I finally got to the point where I was going to start the battle and fight hard. I must say goodbye to my sloppy, irresponsible past.

I rushed to fight in the event of a defeat, but the battle has begun, and I can’t hide.

The third year is really different.

If the horror of the high-three sea tactics has not yet been revealed at the beginning of the demon, then the change brought by the third year is first of all psychological. There is always a string in your mind that is tightly stretched there, it is everywhere, everywhere. On the boring English class, your thoughts drifted out of the window and floated out of the window. When you are doing a lot of calculations, you are a patience-oriented "super low-level" math problem. You want to refer to others. When the idea of ​​the answer was at 12 o'clock in the middle of the night, when I forced myself to sit at the table and remember the meaning of the "People's Democratic Dictatorship", the string "嘣" came to be deafening: "High school, how? It can be so depraved!" Then, the whole person will be aroused, followed by the heart madness, and immediately fight the spirit and continue to fight.

For the third year, writing an article is definitely a luxury and a waste. As soon as I picked up the pen, the string in my head creaked, and the tone, tone, and even the handwriting were strange. I was as if I was copying a word, and I didn’t feel it at all. I have to admire the power of the third year. The number of reminders in the desk has accumulated. I have picked up the pens and manuscript papers and resolutely say goodbye to them. The silver-white pen that carved the beautiful dragon pattern was too heavy. When I picked it up, I was a little powerless, so I decided to give up.

At the beginning of the third year of high school, almost everyone was eager to eagerly try. Everyone was so arrogant that they didn’t go to Fudan University. I put a big slogan on the bedside that "killed into Fudan" and shouted several times before getting up early and going to sleep to increase my little bit of confidence. All the dreams are abstracted into the sacred school that they have identified under the pressure of the college entrance examination. At the time, when I heard all the information about Fudan, I was immediately excited and excited, as if everything was eclipsed under the dazzling aura of the school.

I never thought about the huge difference between the score of 290 and Fudan. The students around me didn't seem to realize the terrible battle of the one-man army. We clung to the dreams of our hearts, and Xianglin squatted with "I want XX". The psychological and the tension that was created at the touch of the moment was beyond the reach of the seniors.

The first real contest from the third year soon came.

The mid-term test of the first semester, an exam that we think is ready to be killed but is terrible.

Our rankings have changed like a teacher's previous predictions. Many of the classmates in the class who had never been seen before, such as the same black horse, suddenly made everyone stunned. Many people began to become practical when they floated up and down. Peking University’s school gates are indeed artistically qualified, but not everyone can feel the elegance there. The porridge is so boring that every senior student is embarrassed before the huge gap between reality and dreams.

I am one of the very few people who still hold on to fantasy. Please note that I use the word "fantasy", which is something that was absolutely impossible at the time. It stands to reason that I am in the high school and the second year of high school and high school. I have been in the middle of the second and third hundred, but in the third year of high school, it is still a small national leader. The school should not be producing any hallucinations. But God knows how I would have such a revolutionary optimism. I stubbornly hold the idea of ​​"every test, advance 50", I am crazy, I am stupid.

Later facts also proved that it was because of his scary optimism that he had the motivation to persevere, and it was absolutely impossible to gradually flash out the dawn of hope.

Using cruel facts to defeat the fragile self-confidence that young people could not afford is the first killer that the third year throws at us.

The firmness of the psychological defense is an extremely important reason for the victory in this war.

At that time, I didn't realize that this kind of obstinacy was so stupid that there was such a big magic. I just insisted on the "Fudan" that I kept the abstract name for 11 years. I didn't even realize what cost to use. To exchange the beautiful concept that I had when I was a child, just follow it closely and meditate it over and over again.

I used my own arrogance to get a little advantage when I was unaware. Actually, I didn't realize that this was a good start.

I went to the class teacher and talked once. The long, petite and lovely little woman’s teacher said softly when she saw me: “This time I’m doing well, I will keep it next time. Huazheng can make a rush.” I still I couldn’t figure out how I was so arrogant at the time, and I was bold and bold: "I want to test Fudan." The lady who has always been full of ladyliness can't conceal the opening of the "○" shape, but she quickly took care of my feelings. Then he said softly: "Then you have to work harder. But there are hopes and hopes." I grinned sillyly. On the table, there was a bunch of roses that were brightly lit, red as if they were dripping out of water, and stretched up vigorously. The sun shone in and it was warm in the office in the early autumn.

Now think of it, the teacher’s understatement gave me a lot of motivation. Not to mention how many positive elements in her words, but the phrase "promising" is like a bright lantern, and in the next days, it is still not far from my mind, even with The sweet taste of the rose on the table made me feel warm.

The next days began to become more and more dull, more and more simple, and a single repetition.

Every morning, I panted into the classroom where I sat down, put my bags, practiced, and started to calculate. The day that was similar but not quite the same on the day of the day is now abstracted into a draft paper that has always been written intricately. The formulas and exercises that have been erased on the blackboard are always awkward and always floating. The chalk in the air.

The boys’ hairs are always tangled in the ground, and all the beautiful clothes of the girls are simplified into uniform uniform uniforms. Occasionally, we will lift our eyes from the piles of paper piled up like a hill, and glance at the newly copied copy of the blackboard and the slanting notice of what books to buy. The days are so flowing in the faint little bit.

The humorous cells of the classmates were trained to be extremely sharp in this simple environment. Once any small details of the small details were caught, they were immediately exaggerated and expanded, and then attracted the sensation of the whole. An article by a writer about "putting a fart/dog fart/farting dog" has led to the crazy behavior of the whole class to laugh at the table and to break the legs. The teacher said that this is a manifestation of a high school syndrome. Because our life is too singular, anything that can be aroused by embarrassment will bring us immeasurable happiness.

The third year of physical education is the only class that the school can't be encroached on. The boys often play basketball in the class and can unscrew the water from the sweater. The girls are kicking the shuttlecock, jumping the rubber band and being happy.

The short time after two classes every Friday afternoon was designated as "Game Day". We racked our brains and tried to bring things to school. There is a pediatric game with a "bomb coin" that is especially popular with us. Put a few corners, a dollar coin on the table, use a few pieces of rubber to set up the goal, regardless of boys and girls all screaming at the table, laughing and having fun. I can't figure it out myself. How can we have been so satisfied with the adult ceremony? How can we laugh like this?

"When you play, you play hard, and when you study, you study hard." It is an irrefutable truth that our seniors believe in.

The number on the countdown card of the college entrance examination is getting smaller and smaller, and we have no time. The teacher yelled at us: "What do you do?" We are not as intriguing as the students in other books. When we are together, we are always happy, no matter how bitter, how boring, I know, at least there are brothers who are standing in the same trench with me. There is no such thing as a student who plays in school and works hard at home, because there is no time and no energy to prepare those hypocritical things. No one wants to do that. Frankly speaking, it is disdain to do it.

Then one day, I did not know who put a bunch of fresh lily in the classroom, the white lily of the perfume. Throughout the autumn, the classroom was always surrounded by the calmness of the lily. We carelessly calculate the day after day in a faint sweet fragrance. No one deliberately pays attention to the bundle of lilies, but it and its taste are really branded in everyone's heart.

I don't know what words to use to accurately express the feelings of that stage. It may be "steady." I still shouted "Go to Fudan" when I got up early and slept late every day, but I stopped chanting "Fudan" over and over again. Everyone carefully collects their dreams in their hearts and uses their own methods to do their best. Progress and honor are all things that we can't grasp. Only the day that we can see and hold is the day we can see and hold. I can see my classmates and myself in the real life of this day's simple days, my achievements are steadily climbing in this sense of realism, moving forward little by little and not slow. This feeling, now I think of it, is really good. The days of the second semester of the third year of the third year have changed a lot compared to the calm of the first semester, adding a lot of incitement and uneasiness.

The first round of knowledge and the second round of systematic mastery of the comprehensive problem has come to a paragraph, the third round of intense examinations and the bombing of the sea tactics came one after another.

It was an indescribable day.

The curriculum was changed to such a terrible form as "external and external +1+1 self-study self-study". The teacher usually does not summarize what we are going to do in class. It is just a stack of exams for each class. I don't know how the teacher will have so many exam papers. We have to do it once in each volume of each district, analyze it again, and then check it again. There are other cities, all kinds of examination papers in the country, as well as previous college entrance examination volumes, and even the strange test questions on the unknown study newspapers have been collected by the teachers for us to do. In the first lesson, the two quizzes will be combined with the quiz, and the year-round self-study will be simulated. All the examination papers are scored, and the teacher can't wait for the batch test to let the students alternate with each other. The score became the most stimulating and least valuable thing in the hot and cold season of the winter and spring.

That is really a powerful stimulus.

The actual score of oneself and what was originally conceived is a stimulus; the score of others is a stimulus compared to their own score, and the total trend of several scores is the biggest stimulus. In the stimulation of this day, I gradually became numb, stunned, and in the fight again and again, "re-emphasizing the mountains and rivers", the courage and perseverance of exercise and blood swallowing in the horrible failure, the more The more stable it is, the stronger it is.

That is the most memorable period of the third year.

Exams and analysis become the whole content of life. Calculate the time to do the volume, correct, analyze, and then do the exercises according to the wrong questions, reversing and reversing. We changed "Today to do n rolls" to "Go back today to get rid of this book", dragging the time of sleep, and the wake-up alarm clock will be dialed earlier.

Take n words every day, do n exams a day, and complete n revisions every day.

The plan is painted on the same scale, and the same is done with the marker when it is finished. The striking levers and the red crosses on the test papers were filled with drops of land and filled with every dusk and morning, paving the way for the only beautiful flowers that the school and family could see.

A yellow paper that is as high as a mountain, immersed in the moldy air and slowly moved. Sometimes the endorsement of tears at home is falling, and the books are all thrown out of the window. However, as long as you read "Fudan" several times, you will calm down. I carry a heavy head and a blank heart. I am willing to bury it in the room to be smashed. "Is it abcd," I am obsessed. I don’t understand how a person who is so used to me will suddenly It became so dangerous and sitting, and it was earth-moving.

Up to now, I have sat in the air-conditioned room and arranged the books of the third year of high school. I still admire my perseverance and courage. A few big books are full of notes, half a meter high, each carefully carefully, carefully revised and analyzed papers, and a dictionary of 16 mathematics classics, each question has Four or five solutions have been seen no more than 10 times. In the cold winter and the weird spring, I used the cracked hands and rough handwriting to weave the sacred and unique dream in my heart. I think this is the influence and change that the third year brought to me.

Growing up is a balance of peace and nostalgia

When it tilts down and falls down

What kind of sound should be used to soothe those who lost their daylight.

—— Gao Xiaosong

I like the song of the old wolf. In those days, the old wolf made me quiet and let me relieve. I think if you want to use a person's voice to give me a high school score, the old wolf, it is suitable. Calm under the calm.

I took the 290th shame and made a final fight with a feeling of ruin and reality. I took a close look at the weight in my hand, nothing, only work hard. I think that every high-school singer who has worked hard this time has tasted the narrow beauty that intercepts all retreats. It is the kind of tragic feeling in the final mood.

Filling in volunteers is a terrible thing, far more complicated than I thought, and people can't stand it.

I thought that I would fill in the words of "Fudan University" in the first choice, and then continue to pursue my dreams. I even imagined what kind of words I would use to fill up if my parents objected or the teacher disapproved, and what kind of words would be used to refute. However, that is all the thoughts of volunteering. "Thinking" is often inconsistent with the facts, "thinking" is "thinking" and "reality" is "reality."

In fact, filling in the process of volunteering has indeed become the most important thing in my high school history.

The teacher repeatedly stressed that I must measure my position based on the scores and rankings of the previous major exams and all the performances of the first and second grades. My confidence disappeared in the sorting and comparison again and again. Can I do it, can I? In the "Break into Fudan" banner, my answer is less than one, and the weak voice is shattered in the cruel reality.

I once saw a predecessor write in her article: "Trust and suspicion are the skeletons. Trusting how heavy your heart is, doubting how much your thoughts will be involuntarily raised." That's true. Every exam in the third year of life tells you that you should never guarantee anything, and don't easily affirm anything. No one can say with certainty: "My language must be more than 120." No one dares to take a brave guarantee: "Mathematics must be my strength."

The attitude that the teachers originally encouraged at this time all came a 180-degree turn. They talked to you, used the rate of progression, and tried to scare you with the unsuccessful failures of the previous sessions, letting you experience the horror of "a failure to become an old-age hate."

“Conservative, conservative, and conservative.” It became the first principle of reporting volunteers.

My situation is somewhat desperate. The poor background of the whole family is not enough to cause any kindness, and the results are weak and not shouting. Even though the efforts of the first half of the year have brought in a slightly higher position in the top 80 of the grade, but in the shadow of 290 in the past few years and the unattainable threshold of Fudan, it has become weak. Beginning with the continuation of allies. Some of them gave up the five-point promise of a school that was a little better, some because their father knew the soul of a certain university, and because they were confused by the soft and hard entanglement of the teachers. In short, they gave up. .

I suddenly became isolated and helpless. My father even took me to Huazheng to receive a 10-point bonus form, and told me the endless days of studying law all the time. In the end, even the principal said: "You have only 30% hope for Fudan. You have to think clearly."

In those few days, my nerves became more fragile, and I was hesitant in the unpredictable dreams and the relative insurance regression. A Huazheng schoolmaster used this to comfort me: "Fill in our school first. If you really take a high score, you can't go to Fudan's door to cry!"

So, I chose to give up. I dare not let Fudan exist as a beautiful fairy tale only in the verbal, I dare not use the unconfident eggs to touch the hard and incomparable stone. I can't stand the desperation that comes from heaven to hell in the event of failure. In the cheers of the whole vote, I trembled and wrote the name of the school that I didn't think of, and the words "betrayal" exploded in my mind.

After handing over the form, I sat alone for two hours and sneaked to the campus of Fudan for an afternoon to mourn the destruction of my dream.

Fudan is so beautiful. The overwhelming cuckoo is quietly open on campus, perfectly reflecting the solemn and sacred Fudan campus as I imagined. My tears flowed down. I am not willing, I am not willing to have a 12-year dream, so I was completely shattered by a thin piece of paper. I am not willing to be "insurable" in this year's desperate struggle. Rumored for reasons. I know that there is nothing that can replace the important position of Fudan in my heart. If I really enter any other school in a high school, the regret is that I can sit at the door of Fudan to cry. What about it?

I know that a hot Sunday afternoon, for me, means a kind of persistent victory. Now think of it, the quiet and beautiful Fudan in that afternoon helped me to make an important decision that belongs to me.

I finally returned to my volunteer watch under the eyes of everyone. I solemnly filled in the four forms of "Fudan University" that I was excited about on the form. That is the most comfortable and beautiful four words I have written in 12 years. These four words are also the most important decision I have made over the years by my own will, a decision that reflects the initial weight of my life.

I want what I want, even if it is hit in the face of reality, even if it is lost in the college entrance examination, this is my own choice.

Just like a student, lost in the examination room.

There will be no more worth writing in the days to come. We have handed over the volunteer list, there is nothing worth worrying about, and reading a good book, doing a good job, relaxing, everything is as simple as that.

As for the three days that countless people call it black, I think there is tension, but for us who have experienced a lot of battles, when it is a special simulation test, it is enough to face it. I felt that I was really calm and calm, and I finished all the exam papers without worrying and handing me the most important answer in my 12 years.

The last test was comprehensive, my last handed volume, there was no one in the classroom, and the invigilator showed a rare smile: "Is it finished?" "Well. My high school is over." When I walked out of the examination room, my feet had A little soft, the inside of the brain creaked. The whole body is like a group of people who have been taken away from the heart. Tired like a hill, I am tired, really tired. I handed over the exam paper, as if I had left half of my life.

More than three hundred days and nights full of sweat and tears!

The feeling of rushing to the sea came over and drowned me silently.

After getting Fudan’s notice, I finally couldn’t help but see the familiar classroom. The last room in the south corridor of the fifth floor went in, and the youth of the third year of high school flowed away from here. In the glass bottle on the podium, a bunch of lavender forget-me-nots were accidentally inserted, and the small green petals were scattered in the place and gently swayed in the wind.

My friends and I have walked through one of the toughest years in such a room with flowers all year round. Now, some of them have gone to Beijing, some have gone to Nanjing, or they have stayed in a distant corner of Shanghai. I can think of my classmates burying their heads in the messy draft paper to calculate the tension of the water. I can think of the situation where I put my ankle on the stool in the front seat and slammed the political situation. I carefully Every little bit of sour and bitter stories that have been so vividly performed in this small room is deeply buried in my heart. They are the best testimony of my unforgettable high school year.

We have all gathered here because of a common goal. Now, everyone has to go to the future with new goals. All good things come to an end. At the graduation party, many boys left tears, joy, and pain. After all, the truth of this paragraph is the first weighty life we ​​have walked together.

That laugh reminds me of my flowers.

Quietly open for me in every corner of my life

I thought I would always be by her side.

Today we have left in the sea

They are all old.

Where are they?

Fortunately, I am

I have been with them.

I remember that I once liked a TV series called "The Sixteen-year-old Flower Season." The name is really good.

The flower season is rotten.

The rotten flower season.

The more than three hundred days and nights of the third year of high school, just like a flower of a colorful flower, is in everyone's heart. Maybe not every flower is beautiful and earth-shattering. Not every flower is fragrant and shocking, and not every flower can bear fruit. But those flowers really bloomed in the softest part of everyone's heart, and they really left some sweet flowers. The shadow of these flowers, together with the third year, gives us a pair of mature eyes that we use to see the world today. This unforgettable influence will affect every choice we make in the future, every decision.

The flowers have passed. We admit it, ignore it, as long as it blooms, it will be unbeaten.

If some stories haven’t been finished yet, forget it.

Those moods are already difficult to distinguish between true and false in the years.

They are all old.

They are still open

We are like this

Each goes to the end of the world.