Happy high school life
  This is a thing I wrote during my sophomore year. I rarely write prose, especially lyric prose. But that time it was really sentimental, too much emotion, too much nostalgia, too much worry, piled up for two years, finally touched by a distant letter, can no longer suppress their feelings A wave of it. I haven’t been so touched for a long time. I have never written it so fast and smooth. The purpose of writing is not for publication. I only circulate it in a few old friends and share those nervous and beautiful memories. Almost everyone will say, "I miss you very much..." 
  Suddenly I received a letter from a classmate in the third year of high school: 
  "Now I am going to study the so-called university and live a so-called carefree university life. But I still often think of high school especially. It’s a high class of 2000 and ten classes. It’s a bit of a messy and indifferent classroom. Because I really miss the one I lost, just in the school that once cursed, even a grass, a leaf I will also be moved by the present."... 
  How happy life is in the third year of high school. 
  But at that time, I didn't think that I rented a 16-meter hut to live on the fourth floor. Except for a large bed and a large closet, there is only one small desk and a lot of review materials. Every time I pull the door and put down the curtains, I will kill and scream in the sea of ​​questions. When the time is good, push the small window through and breathe, put the face on the root iron bar of the window, and sing Xu Meijing’s "Iron Window Tears". Outside the window is a low and low bungalow, such as the third year of the general course is monotonous. The teaching building is waiting for me, not far away. It makes people shudder. The university at this time is a perfect dream. All freedom and sacredness are waiting for me behind the abominable college entrance examination. I hope that I will immediately become a bird. From this narrow window, I will fly away and find my dream. 
  However, the Tianluo network of the college entrance examination, even small birds can not fly. I had to find my own happiness in the small cage. The coming of happiness is after 12 o'clock every night. At this time, I put down the review materials that I have endured many times before finally tearing it up. I reached out to a remote corner of the book, where there are only two books in the whole high school. Extracurricular books "Yu Guangzhong's Prose" and "Yu Qiuyu's Anthology, at this time, the fate of Mr. Yu is waiting for my verdict. If I am already confused and sleepy, then looking for the glory of the glory is a trick. His article is misplaced in both Chinese and Western, and English and Chinese. There is an elegant humor, reading like a mercury rush, only a whisper, interesting and interesting. As for Yu Qiuyu's prose, it is really a cure for excess energy. It tricks you into becoming a fascinating Chinese culture and makes yourself passionate. It creates a few layers of "cultural accumulation" that makes you groggy and has to go to bed and read. To the beauty, often sitting cross-legged on the bed and pondering for a long while, the same form of silence; sometimes and read words, if the evil spirits. This feeling of concentration is definitely a kind of enjoyment: when the cold rain hits the window or the sound of the insects, everything is in the dark, leaving me and my book, and a lonely lamp. Bright. 
  Just as the Titanic was completely sunk, the last wave on the icy Atlantic... and more pleasing, it was just a little extravagant. One night, a sudden whim, took out the almost dusty flute, without the film, I had to use a transparent glue instead. I was extremely intoxicated to blow up the melodious and somewhat emotional "I think I am the sea": "My heart is like a warm beach, with a mess of things..." What a beautiful tune, I am completely intoxicated, I believe the whole world is also Drunk - just a little darker outside the window, the starlight is flashing - is it that I am dreaming, is it an illusion? Look at the watch, already a little bit, it may be too sleepy, then go to bed and sleep. 
  The next day, I found the violent bloated eyes, and quickly asked me: "How, violent brother, didn't sleep well last night?" 
  "Her mother, which neuropathy was still playing the flute at night at 12 o'clock in the evening, it hurts I couldn't sleep, I had to turn on the lights and read the book for a while." 
  From then on, I will say goodbye to my dear flute forever. 
  These fun moments really make me unforgettable, but the really incomprehensible are the innocent and lovely students. 
  We are eager for the free life of the university, but we are also feeling the lonely night of the third year. Perhaps this is life... 
  One day, Shizun asked the disciple: "How long is life?"
  "Fifty years." A disciple replied. 
  Shizun shook his head: "No." 
  "Forty years." Another disciple replied. 
  "No." Shizun waved his hand. 
  "Thirty years?" "No, no." 
  "So how long is life?" The disciples were confused and could not help but ask. 
  Shizun smiled and replied: 
  "Life is only in the breath." 
  Life is only in the breath, happiness is only in the breath. 
  We must live to be alive today. Don't always complain about the hard work of today. In fact, tomorrow may be even harder. The study of the third year is hard work, and should be good at discovering the fun. As I wrote in the previous article, "Happy coming after 12 o'clock every night", after completing a day of study, you can relax in ten minutes, and happiness is in it.