High school students express their life feelings and thoughts.

Invincible Flower —— Career Leaf of Fudan University

Like water passing by, flowers bloom and fall, and we stand by and watch the river of years flow clearly. On the river, there are colorful flowers and lost years.

I don't know how to write, or exactly what kind of words to string together the feelings of this year completely, so that they can hang there like gorgeous crystals without losing their original flavor for you to share and understand.

When I wrote the first word of this hot and deadly August, I suddenly noticed that there were many unknown flowers outside the window, red, yellow, pink, white, orange and blue, colorful and beautiful everywhere. God, when did these flowers come out? This momentum should not last only a few days.

I don't know whether these flowers bloom so beautifully this year. If so, I think I should thank them. I can smell a lot of sweet smells in the air, and suddenly a beautiful sentence pops up: flowers are invincible!

Flowers bloom undefeated.

Flowers are unbeaten!

I think I can finally calm down and tell you many stories that happened this year. I think no matter what happens in the future, I will never forget every bit of this year.

A week before the start of senior three, there will be a parent-teacher meeting.

It was a very serious parent-teacher conference, and no one was absent or even late. The teacher mobilized almost all parents' emotions at that meeting. Needless to say, the importance of the third year of high school, the so-called "success is also the third year of high school, and failure is also the third year of high school", no matter how brilliant the previous children were, no matter how failed they were, the head teacher, as a thin little girl, actually leaned on the podium for two hours, which only made us believe that anything could happen, and miracles or consequences would appear dramatically this year with BLACKPINK.

In order to let each student know clearly his ranking position in the class, grade, even in the whole region and the whole city, the school has carefully made a ranking table for senior one and senior two subjects. Now that I think about it, I have to admit that the watch is really too detailed. The total score and standard ranking of each course are compared with the average score within the grade, and there are even well-designed score curves, and finally there is a concrete analysis of the comprehensive ranking. Squeezing a piece of paper is really painstaking.

My father came back from school with a gloomy face, and the situation was as pessimistic as I expected: the grade ranked 290. A terrible situation.

"There is hope. The teacher said that everything is possible. " Father said that he believed in me, but I don't know whether I should believe in myself again. However, there is no way out. We are chess pieces crossing the river, and we can't turn back.

I can only be honest with my parents, teachers and, most importantly, myself if I chase after them.

The long preparation period of eleven years has finally arrived, and it is time to start fighting and fight hard. I must bid farewell to my rambling and irresponsible past.

I rushed to the battle when I had completely lost, but the battle had already started and I couldn't escape.

Senior three is really different.

If the terror of the tactics of the third year of high school has not been revealed at the beginning of this demon's debut, then the change brought by the third year of high school is psychological first. There is always a string in your mind. It is always there, always there. When you are in a boring English class, your thoughts float out of the window and you think; Doing a "super-low-level" math problem with a huge amount of calculation is purely patience. Move a little, just want to refer to other people's answers. At midnight 12 o'clock, when I forced myself to sit at the table and recite the meaning of "people's democratic dictatorship", the string of "bang" came deafening: "Senior three, how can you be so degenerate!" Then, the whole person got excited, followed by a pounding heart, and immediately rallied to continue fighting.

For senior three, writing articles is definitely a luxury and a waste. As soon as I picked up the pen, the strings in my head buzzed, and my tone, style and even handwriting were strange, so strange that it was nothing like copying words. I have to admire the powerful motivation of senior three. There are more and more reminders in my desk. I picked up a pen and manuscript paper and said goodbye to them resolutely. The silver-white pen with beautiful dragon pattern is too heavy for me to pick up, so I decided to give it up.

At the beginning of senior three, almost everyone was eager to try, and everyone was full of energy, so Fudan Jiaotong University could not make progress. I posted a big slogan "Go to Fudan" on the bedside, and shouted it several times every morning before going to bed to increase my confidence. All dreams are abstracted into sacred institutions of higher learning under the pressure of college entrance examination. At that time, as soon as I heard all the news about Fudan, I was excited and excited, as if everything was covered by the dazzling aura of that school.

I never thought about the huge gap between the score of 290 and Fudan, and the students around me didn't seem to realize the horror of crossing the single-plank bridge with thousands of troops. We cling to our dreams, and Sister Xianglin shouts "I want XXX". That kind of psychology, and the explosive tension caused by it, is beyond the understanding of people below grade three.

The first real competition of senior three is coming.

The mid-term exam of the first semester, an exam that we thought was ready but was badly killed.

Our ranking has changed dramatically as the teacher expected. Many unknown students in the class are like dark horses, which surprised everyone at once. Up and down, many people began to become practical. The gate of Peking University is really artistic, but not everyone can feel elegant there. The embarrassment of less porridge and more monks makes every senior three student feel embarrassed in the face of the huge gap between reality and dreams.

I am one of the few people who still have illusions. Please note that I used the word "fantasy", which was something that seemed absolutely impossible at that time. It stands to reason that I, who is unwilling to wander between 200 and 300 in my first and second year of high school, has started 1/4 in my third year of high school, but I still maintain a considerable momentum. I should not have any illusions about Fudan, a top university in China. But God knows how I had such revolutionary optimism. I stubbornly hold the idea of "I will advance 50 in every exam", which is stupid and proud.

Later facts also proved that it was because of my scary optimism that I had the motivation to persist and let the absolutely impossible things slowly flash the dawn of hope step by step.

Beating the fragile self-confidence of young people with cruel facts is the first killer weapon thrown at us by senior three.

The firmness of psychological defense is an extremely important reason for whether we can win this war.

I didn't realize at that time that this silly persistence had such great magic. I just stick to the abstract name of Fudan and keep it 1 1 year. I didn't even realize how much it would cost to get this beautiful concept I had when I was a child. I just followed closely and recited it over and over again.

I bought a little bargain with my arrogance without realizing it. Actually, I didn't realize that this was really a good start.

Once I went to talk to the class teacher, and the teacher, like a petite and lovely little woman, saw me and said softly, "I did well in this exam. I will keep it next time." Hua Zheng can rush. "I still can't figure out why I was so firm and bold at that time:" I want to take the Fudan exam. " This teacher, who has always been full of lady spirit, can't hide his "O" mouth. Fortunately, she soon took my feelings into consideration and said softly, "Then you should try harder. However, there is hope and hope. " I smirked. There is a bunch of blooming roses on the table, as red as water, stretching up vigorously. The sunlight slanted in, making the office warm in early autumn.

Now that I think about it, the teacher's understatement gave me great motivation. Not to mention how many positive elements there are in her words, but the sentence "promising" is like a bright lantern, which has been hanging in my mind for the following days. Together with the fragrance of roses on the table that day, I feel that the whole person is warm.

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

Every morning, I rush breathlessly into the crowded classroom, put on my schoolbag, do exercises and start calculating. Similar but different days from day to day have now been abstracted into draft paper that is written densely forever, formulas and exercises that can't be wiped clean on the blackboard, teachers' heartfelt reminders and chalk scraps that float in the air forever.

Boys' hair is always messy, and all the beautiful clothes of girls are simplified into uniform uniforms. Occasionally, we will lift our distracted eyes from the messy pile of paper piled as high as a hill and take a look at the crooked notices on the blackboard, such as how much to pay and what books to buy. The days passed by bit by bit.

In this simple environment, students' humorous cells are trained to be extremely acute. Once any little thing is caught, it is immediately exaggerated, then expanded, and then attracts all the sensations. An article by a writer about "bullshit/dog farting/farting dog" actually attracted the whole class to clap their desks and laugh, hit the desks and beat their legs. The teacher said it was a manifestation of senior three syndrome. Because our life is too simple, anything that can cause ripples will bring us immeasurable happiness.

Physical education class, a senior in senior three, is the only class that can't be occupied by the school. Boys often play basketball until they can twist sweaters in class, while girls have fun playing badminton and jumping rubber bands.

The short time after two classes every Friday afternoon is designated as "game day" by us. We racked our brains to bring things to school to play. There is a children's game of "playing with coins", which is especially popular with us. Put a few dimes and one-dollar coins on the table, and build a goal with a few erasers. Whether boys and girls are all lying on the table, shouting and laughing, they all have a good time. I myself don't understand how we can be so easily satisfied and hysterical when we have held a passing ceremony.

"Have fun when you should play, and study hard when you should study." This is the irrefutable truth that our senior three students believe in.

The number on the countdown board of the college entrance examination is getting smaller and smaller, and we have no time. The teacher shouted to us, "Do what you should do." We don't have the intrigue between classmates written in other books. When we are together, no matter how bitter or boring, we are always happy. I know at least there are brothers standing in the same trench with me. There are no students who pretend to play at school and study hard at home. Because they have no time and energy to prepare those hypocritical things, no one wants to do that. Frankly speaking, they are disdainful.

Then one day, I don't know who inserted a bunch of fresh lilies, pink perfume lilies in the classroom. That whole autumn, the classroom was always haunted by the fragrance of lilies. We are counting day after day in the faint sweetness. No one pays attention to the natural lily, but it and its taste are deeply branded in everyone's heart.

I don't know what words to use to accurately express my feelings at that stage. It may be "down to earth". I still shout "Kill Fudan" when I get up early and go to bed late every day, but I won't say "Fudan" again and again. Everyone carefully hides their dreams in their hearts and works hard in their own way. Progress and honor are illusory things that we can't grasp. Only this day is the real day that we can see and hold. I can see that my classmates and myself are making real efforts day by day in this simplicity, and my grades are rising steadily and making progress little by little in this sense of sureness. This feeling, now that I think about it, is really good. Compared with the calm of the first semester, the days of the second semester of senior three have changed a lot, adding a lot of restlessness and anxiety.

The first round of knowledge collation and the second round of system mastery comprehensive problems have come to an end, and the third round of intense exams and sea-bombing tactics have followed.

It was an indescribable time.

The curriculum was changed to the terrible form of "self-study+1+ 1 beyond the number of languages". Teachers usually don't help us summarize anything in class, but just distribute stacks of simulated test papers of various subjects for classroom testing. I don't know why the teacher has so many papers. We need to do, analyze and spot-check every kind of paper in each district. There are also all kinds of unified examination papers in other cities and the whole country, as well as all previous college entrance examination papers, and even those strange questions in unknown learning newspapers have been collected by teachers and made for us. One class is a quiz, two classes are a big exam, and the unified self-study class for the whole grade is a mock exam. All the papers are graded. Let the students grade the quiz in turn before the teacher can grade it. Scores have therefore become the most exciting and worthless thing in this hot and cold season of alternating winter and spring.

This is a powerful stimulus.

Your actual score is a stimulus originally conceived; The contrast between others' scores and their own scores is another stimulus, and the general trend of several scores is the biggest stimulus. I gradually became extremely numb and invulnerable in the stimulation of this day. In repeated blows, I "cleaned up the mountains and rivers again", exercised my courage and perseverance in terrible failures, and became more and more calm and stronger.

It was the most unforgettable period of senior three.

Inspection and analysis have become the whole content of life. Calculate the time to do the paper, revise the analysis, do the exercises according to the wrong questions, repeat, repeat, repeat. We changed "going back to do n papers today" to "going back to do this book today", delayed bedtime and set the alarm clock earlier and earlier.

Recite n words every day, do n test papers every day, and complete n revisions every day.

The timetable is so thick that it is crossed out with colored pens every time it is completed. The shocking bar and the big red cross on the test paper are dripping everywhere at dusk and early morning, covering the only path where schools and families can see beautiful flowers.

Mountain-high yellow pages move slowly in the moldy air. Sometimes tears will fall when you recite at home, and books will be thrown out of the window. However, as long as you meditate on Fudan several times, you will immediately calm down. I have a heavy head and a blank heart, and I am willing to bury it in a rotting room. I am persistent, persistent. I don't understand how a person who is used to being sloppy suddenly becomes so safe and feels that the world is moving.

Up to now, I have been sitting comfortably in an air-conditioned room sorting out senior three books, and I still admire my perseverance and courage at that time. There are several large notebooks filled with annotations, each half-meter high paper is carefully made, carefully revised and analyzed, and there is also a classic math exercise with a dictionary thickness of 16. There are four or five solutions to each problem, and I have seen 10 many times. In that cold winter and strange spring, I used my chapped hands and rough handwriting to weave the sacred and unique dream in my heart word by word, question by question. I think this is the influence and change brought by senior three.

Growth is the balance of longing and nostalgia.

When it leans down.

What kind of sound should be used to comfort those nights when the sun is gone?

-high

I like Lao Lang's songs very much. In those days, the old wolf kept me quiet and relaxed. I think if I want to use the music given to me by a person's singing, Lao Lang's is very suitable. The sound of waves is hidden under the calm.

With the shame of 290 people, I made a final struggle with reality with despair. I carefully looked at the weight in my hand, and there was nothing but hard work. I think, every senior high school student who has struggled has tasted the narrow beauty of blocking all retreat, and all of them are feeling the tragic mood in the end.

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

I thought I would smartly fill in the word "Fudan" in my first choice, and then proudly continue my dream. I even imagined what words I would use to fill in and refute if my parents objected or the teacher disapproved. However, that was all I thought before I filled in my volunteer. What is "thought" is often inconsistent with the facts. Thought is thought and reality is reality.

In fact, the process of volunteering has really become the most tortuous thing in my senior three.

The teacher repeatedly stressed that we must measure our position according to the scores and rankings of previous major exams and all the performances of senior one and senior two, so my confidence disappeared in the collation and comparison again and again. May I? May I? In front of the banner of "Kill in Fudan", my answer is weaker every time, and my weak voice is shattered in the cruel reality.

I once saw an elder write in her article: "Trust and doubt are seesaws. Believe how heavy your heart is, and how high your mind will be involuntarily raised. " That's true. Every exam in senior three tells you never to promise anything and never to affirm anything easily. No one can say for sure: "My language must be above 120." No one dares to clap his chest and promise, "Mathematics must be my strong point."

At this time, the teachers' original encouraging attitude made a 180 degree turn. They talk to you, use the enrollment rate, and try their best to scare you with the horrible failure examples of previous sessions, so that you can feel the horror of "one step away, eternal regret".

"Conservative, conservative, more conservative." Has become the first principle of voluntary service.

My situation is a little desperate. The poor background of the whole family is not enough to attract the care of any capable person, and their achievements are too weak to shout out. Even though half a year's efforts made me get a slightly higher position in the top 80 of my grade, I have become frustrated in the face of the shadow of 290 and the unattainable threshold of Fudan in previous years. The allies began to retreat. Some of them gave up because of the five-point promise of a better school, some because their father knew the soul of a university, and some because they were confused by the teachers' indifference.

I suddenly became isolated. My father even went to Huazheng behind my back and got a bonus of 10. He taught me all day about the infinite future of law. Finally, even the headmaster said, "You only have a 30% chance to get into Fudan. Think about it. "

In those days, my nerves became more fragile than ever, vacillating and hesitating in unrealized dreams and relatively safe retrogression. A senior of Huazheng actually comforted me with such words: "Fill in our school first. If you really get a high score, it's a big deal to sit at the door of Fudan and cry! "

So I chose to give up. I dare not let Fudan exist only orally like a beautiful fairy tale. I dare not touch that hard stone with an insecure egg. I can't stand the despair of going from heaven to hell after failure. In the cheers of unanimous approval, I wrote down the name of the school that I had never thought of, and the word "betrayal" exploded in my mind.

After handing in the form, I took a bus for two hours alone and secretly went to Fudan campus for an afternoon to mourn the disillusionment of my dream.

Fudan is really beautiful. The overwhelming azaleas are quietly intoxicating on campus, which just sets off the solemn and sacred Fudan campus in my imagination. My tears came down at once. I don't want to, I don't want a dream of 12 to be completely shattered by a thin piece of paper, and I don't want the desperate struggle of senior three to be ruined by an "insurance" reason. I know that nothing can replace Fudan's pivotal position in my heart. If I really got into any department of other schools with high scores, what kind of regret would it be to sit at the gate of Fudan and cry to get rid of it somewhere?

I know, that hot Sunday afternoon, for me, means the victory of persistent ideas. Now that I think about it, Fudan, who was quiet and beautiful that afternoon, helped me make an important decision of my own.

I finally got my Zhang Zhiyuan watch back under the different eyes of everyone, and solemnly filled in the four exciting characters "Fudan University" on the form. That is really the most comfortable and beautiful four words I wrote in 12. These four words are also the most important decision I have made by myself for so many years, a decision that reflects the initial weight of my life.

I want what I want, even if I get hit hard in the face of reality, even if I fail in the college entrance examination. This is my own choice.

Just like a student, he was defeated in the examination room.

There is nothing worth writing in the days to come. After handing in the volunteer form, there is nothing to worry about. Read a good book, do a good paper and relax. Everything is as simple as that.

As for the three days of being scolded by countless people, I think there is tension, but for us who have been through many battles, when it is a special mock exam, we can face it calmly. I felt really super calm at that time. I finished all the papers unhurriedly and shook hands, and handed in my most important answer sheet on 12.

The last exam was comprehensive. I handed in the last test paper and there was no one in the classroom. The invigilator showed a rare smile: "Have you finished the exam?" "well. My high school is over. " When I walked out of the examination room, my feet were a little weak and my brain was buzzing. Paralysis, like a spine. Tired as a hill, I'm tired, really tired. Hand in the paper, as if it had been entrusted for half a lifetime.

More than 300 days and nights full of sweat and tears!

That overwhelming feeling flooded in and drowned me silently.

After I got the notice from Fudan, I finally couldn't help looking at the familiar classroom. The last room in the south corridor on the fifth floor, where the youth of senior three flows away. Don't forget that I accidentally inserted a bunch of lavender flowers in a glass bottle on the podium. Small light green petals were scattered among them, swaying gently in the wind.

My friends and I spent the most difficult time in such a room where flowers bloom all the year round. Now, some of them have gone to Beijing, some to Nanjing, or stayed in a distant corner of Shanghai. I still remember the scene where students buried their heads in messy draft paper to calculate the tension of water. I can remember putting my feet on the stool in the front seat and reciting the political scene. I have carefully buried in my heart every little story full of ups and downs that has been so truly staged in this small room. They are the best testimony of my unforgettable senior three.

We all came here because of a common goal, and now everyone has to go their separate ways for a new goal. All good things must come to an end. Many boys left tears at the graduation party, whether it was joy or pain. After all, the truth of this paragraph is the first weighty life we have walked hand in hand.

That laughter reminds me of my flowers.

In every corner of my life, quietly open it for me.

I thought I would always be there for her.

Today we left in the vast sea of people.

Are they all old?

Where are they?

Fortunately, I ... ...

I am very open to them.

I remember I used to like a TV series called Sixteen. I wish I had a name.

The flower season is gorgeous.

Romantic flower season.

Little by little in more than 300 days and nights of senior high school, like a colorful little flower, blooms in everyone's heart. Maybe not every flower is earth-shattering, not every flower is amazing, not every flower can bear rich fruits. But those flowers really once bloomed in the softest place in everyone's heart, and they did leave some fragrance. The shadow of these flowers, coupled with the third year of high school, brings us a pair of mature eyes with which we can see the world today. This unforgettable experience will affect every choice and decision in our future life.

The flowers are already in bloom. Whether we admit it or not, as long as the flowers bloom, we are unbeaten.

Some stories haven't been finished, so forget it.

Those feelings have been difficult to distinguish between true and false in the years.

Are they all old?

Are they still driving?

This is our job.

Go their separate ways.

Postscript: The story of senior three is finally finished, and I feel a little tired and at a loss.

For a long time, I have been thinking about what kind of words should be used to accurately write out my feelings this year, so that they can be presented in the form of words as a souvenir.

To tell the truth, I am a very smooth child. I went from elementary school to junior high school, and then from junior high school to senior high school. I got here today without any obstacles. Therefore, the college entrance examination is more of a different taste for me who has never experienced anything. Feel the dribs and drabs of this year with your heart, and accept the setbacks and rewards brought by senior three with your pious mind. I think this is a rare baptism and a precious experience.

The text is still a little pale. I wonder if you can feel the same after reading the article. If there is even a little bit of recognition, I think, I am very satisfied.

Flowers are unbeaten, flowers are unbeaten.

There will be many wonderful things waiting for me to experience, and there are many experiences like senior three waiting for me to experience. All stories are sung while walking.