Ask for an article about the mood of graduating from college.

I just looked through the photos and letters of my college days, and my mood is so complicated. Suddenly I miss the old days, so carefree and comfortable. At that time, I could do what I wanted with my brothers every day, and of course I would have financial difficulties. If there is a meal, everyone will eat together, and if there is no meal, everyone will be hungry together. Although there is no pride in martial arts novels, they are also happy. There are madness in the daytime, inner reading in the dead of night, and brave words for the future. Only in college nights will you find that boys who slap in the face with laughter on weekdays also have a fragile side, a sensitive side, and delicacy that cannot be shown during the day.

Miss college life and those brothers. Now everyone goes their separate ways. Is everyone okay? Do you still have the ambition of that year? Do you still pursue your obsession with feelings as you did then? Or now you have smoothed the edges and accepted the cruelty and helplessness of reality.

In college, we want to step into the society every day, create some achievements in this colorful world, and lay our own sky. But now I really want to go back to school and enjoy a quiet life with my brothers. Maybe you will say that I am running away and dare not face the reality. Yes, I really want to escape. I hate my life now. I worry about my job every day. In addition to doing your job well in the unit, you should also think about how to get the good feelings of the leaders (at least not annoying). I know, I am weak, but I just want to live a happy life.

Miss college life, miss those days when the group recited all night for the exam; Miss those nights when playing cards until the early hours of the morning with "special candles for fighting landlords"; Miss the time when we talked about each other in the dark; I miss those brothers-Yao Chou, Chen Guawa, Penpen, Liu Jill, Gao Gou, Radar, and the mysterious figure "Gambling God" who has disappeared without a trace.

The campus in May is green with flowers and birds, which reminds me of my flowers and my young friends. I used to think that we would always go hand in hand happily. Always happy, always pure and without sadness, but today we have left in the vast sea of people and parted ways.

Think about last May. The darkness before June that we fought for. The books in the flea market are full of our lives, raising our heads in the gap of time and then burying them in a hurry. I didn't have time to count the rain drops that night. I looked at the ripples on the ground and saw that time was stepping as fast as I was, passing by me with quiet eyes.

Busy for a whole senior three, although there is no college entrance examination, everyone suddenly relaxed tacitly and remembered June. When I think of leaving, I feel a kind of joy and heartless sadness. At any time, we always have a group of boys, holding football high and venting on the football field. I still remember the last football match in our senior year. Muyue picked up a broken camera to take pictures of us, but she didn't know how to shoot moving objects with the shutter of 125. I made a film and only developed a photo, the figure of past lives in the dusk. But everyone is happy. After the game, we put away our jerseys. I changed clothes with my old life. Because I was my best friend in my last life, and the jersey number there is 52, which is the last two on my college entrance examination admission ticket. At first, he didn't want to write. Finally, he knew that the name of a girl he liked and 52 (I love) were printed on the back of his jersey. Inadvertently, I found that the jersey number of each of us is a proof of our youthful love. With the name of the most special person and the symbol of love.

By the end of May, the teacher stopped taking care of us. Everyone is working hard to complete the compulsory tree of the graduating class-writing graduation messages. They are all in the form of stationery, which is more convenient to send and receive. I often go back to the classroom after dinner, and I have seen more than ten pages of messages. I didn't intend to buy a guest book at first, so I didn't think it was necessary. If two people have a good relationship, feelings can't be carried by one message at all: if the relationship is not good, they won't be contacted by one message. Later, I was forced to try to get back at others, and I heard a saying: Youth is for profligacy. In fact, everyone just relaxes each other and reduces the tension before the college entrance examination.

I didn't know until I read the message. I found many friends telling their secrets in their messages, only to know that I was lucky enough to buy a message book. Read, read. I began to cry because some feelings really touched my heart.

Jay said: time can't wash away everything in the past. What has passed is not the best, because the best is always engraved in our hearts. Fish said: the wind stopped, the cloud knew, the fate was gone, and the feelings were gone. Past life said: truth is predestined, and people should do their duty. This is my favorite sentence, your forever friend. God brought us together, but our understanding, suffering and true feelings were bought with our youth. Although it's short, it's common. But my heart was deeply touched.

Girls cry almost every day. All the students in twos and threes went to take photos to commemorate, but I didn't take photos with anyone. I went with my deskmate, but I don't know who said not to take pictures. There is no reason to meet again after the photo shoot. As a result, I only took photos with eight girlfriends, such as past lives and fish.

Youth ended like this, and we went our separate ways. I just remembered to write them down at this time of the year, not because of anything else, but because of the emotional fragments deposited in the flowing time. Now, it seems that all the youth that has ended has a new story, and all the flowers of my youth have gone to the end of the world. Most of them have been quietly opened in their respective ivory towers in different corners.

And I'm still writing my own article, drawer literature about our youth. It's just that we gradually find that music is over and youth is over. It's time for us to say goodbye. We see a passage: One is always on a strange road, watching strange scenery and listening to strange songs. Now it's time for me to rush to the next intersection to pursue those who have met by destiny.

Although youth is over, I still hope that those flowers will bloom quietly and be more brilliant than those on campus. Going to the end of the world, I feel a little sad. I once owned it, now I lose it, and maybe it will eventually become a vague memory in the future. The song is over, and in the night without those old friends, a person silently recalls. Perhaps it is better to miss each other than to meet each other, so let the fragments of feelings precipitate in the flowing time.