High school motivational article: There is a kind of love called high school

High school motivational article: There is a kind of love called high school

High school,
Get used to getting up at the time of Scorpio,
I am used to washing my face with my sleepy eyes, brushing my teeth, getting used to being lazy...
I am used to walking and cursing the hateful education system and calculating the time away from Sunday;...
I am used to rushing to the bathroom when the teacher has checked people. When I come back to sleep on the table, I will go back to sleep...
I am used to the sleepiness of my class. I want to let myself sleep at the moment when the bell rings. I put the high stack of books and pretend to look down at the book, but I sleep peacefully in the moment when I put my head on the book.
That year we were all high school.
I like to write my own youth vows on the table, like to write down my helplessness on the wall.
I like to sleep quietly at the moment when the bell rings.
I like to go to the playground to throw two basketballs during the meal.
I like to plug in my headphones when I am nap, listen to a few favorite songs and sleep again...
I like to see magazines and newspapers that I haven’t seen for a long time.
I like to stand on the balcony and look at the boys, girls, and the big guys who walked downstairs.
I like a group of friends to bang together and vent their youthful helplessness.
I like to whisper in the back of the classroom.
I like to come to the dark corridor and the one he likes to come to a deliberate unexpected encounter;
That year we were still very high.
In order to solve a math problem, we can pick up a late word habit. In order to ask a question, we can forget the bell ringing after school.

I am afraid of every exam, but I am looking forward to every exam, afraid of the announcement of the results, but I am looking forward to the announcement of the results, pretending not to care about my achievements, but when I have no one, I have read the results on the wall. Again and again, then walk away silently...
I don't think I will work hard if I don't make progress on the next exam. But regardless of progress, the sweat of hard work never stops flowing;
We are still very high, getting used to getting up at five in the morning.
Get used to going to school at less than 7 in the morning,
I used to eat the ugly and not enough lunches sold by hawkers outside the railing at noon.
I used to make a preparation bell and hurriedly ran into the classroom from the bathroom, then whispered: This class? I am used to the crazy things in class, and I have to be wary of the ugly face of the class guides in the back door window. At the same time, everyone is almost conditioned to advance the magazine novels in the book box. Do a good job, fake model fake holding a pen that can't write a word, seriously looking at the blackboard, thinking in the mind that the class has gone? After a moment of silence, stop the noise in the back row, the alarm is lifted...
In a blink of an eye, we left the hardships of the third year of high school, and all the habits became so unaccustomed. I thought that my youth was released at the end of the third year of high school, thinking that I was ushered in another spring of my life. But we often think of the days of high school, want to go back to the classroom of high school to see the sweat stains left by them, want to go back to the high school classroom to see the blackboard full of homework, want to go back to the classroom of the third year to see if they used to be in the wall The poem written on it, I want to go back and look at the countdown newspaper of our back wall; I want to go back to the high school classroom to listen to the youth vows under the blackboard, whether I want to see the friends who have passed through the black June. We want to see the same table that you can't bear to wake up from your sleep, and want to see the campus full of our laughter...
Now I am squandering my youth in college. Looking back on the days of my third year of high school, there is always an impulse to cry. The three years of my death are always the best memories of youth in our hearts.
In high school, it is a bit bitter to think about it. It is not the life of those years, but the life of no longer. Once a classmate, a former teacher, and a former campus have gradually gone away, leaving only the less perfect memory.
High school, the memory of a lifetime, perhaps only one high school in a lifetime... I really miss it!
At this moment, I know that I am helpless. . Looking at the countdown hanging in front of the blackboard....that would be the end of our happiness. When you leave, no one will gently knock on your head. I will not scream for some small things. There will never be a bag of snacks, a few copies of happiness, no one will laugh at you. You are a funny face. In those years, we were all high school. There were too many too many things, and there was a lot of disappointment. Only for us is the third year of high school, we are all young people after the 90s, and they are reluctant to leave their hearts.
Every day that has never danced is a burden of past life...