Come in a hurry for twenty years (tell the most common story in the most plain language)

That night, a fleshy elf was born in the corner of grandma's heatable adobe sleeping platform. The crying attracted neighbors, delighted her father and busy grandma. When they were immersed in the joy of the newborn coming into this world, they didn't know that this little guy was secretly looking at this strange world!

"Bowls and bowls, don't run around, grandma will feed you." At that time, as soon as he learned to walk, he couldn't wait to run, and his curious eyes were interested in everything. When grandma took him around, the girls always liked to "flirt" with him in open-backed pants. Originally, he was surrounded by all kinds of "pets" when he was a child. No wonder when he grew up ...

When he grew up, he grew up surrounded by green mountains and green waters, and naturally he loved and gave up on this mountain and water. When the busy farming season is over, I can always see naked kids (that's me) on the haystack outside grandma's yard. I like lying in the grass in the afternoon, listening to the rustling of birch leaves. When the sun shines on my face through the cracks in the leaves, I always like to squint at the sky through the cracks, thinking seriously about something. Unconsciously, I started snoring, warm wind, shade, cicada singing, and nothing is more happy than sleeping. Noon in the village is always quiet, and I occasionally hear my grandparents discussing the crops. There is a bleating sound from the sheepfold next door, and the sheep put their ears impatiently to drive away the annoying mosquitoes and flies. Soon, grandpa's snoring rang from the hall ...

Good times are always easy to pass, and the child who followed grandpa to pick fruit in the mountains unconsciously reached the school grade. That day, carrying a small basket full of wild fruits, holding grandpa's hand, I skipped home. My parents in the city took a lot of delicious food, and when they were happy, they heard that my parents were taking me to a new strange place. I heard that there were tall buildings, lanes, neon lights and traffic, and I was going there to study and play with new children. Full of curiosity and happiness, I urged my grandmother to install my slingshot and the small pistol made by my grandfather. At that time, I didn't find grandpa squatting on the concrete steps smoking a cigarette, taking a bite, and the blue and white tobacco spit far away. "Old man, go and see off your grandson." Grandma's eyes were full of tears. In order not to let me see it, she secretly took the sleeve and touched it at the moment when she turned to call grandpa. When the parting car braved the smoke and the smell of gasoline rushed into my nose, a sadness ran from my heart to my eyes. Until I reached the end of the village, my grandfather walked to the front of the window, touched my hair and said, Be obedient and studious when you go, and don't fight with other children. I nodded, but tears came down unwillingly. "Grandpa, I can't bear to part with you. Can I stay with you? I won't go." "Silly grandson, my son's parents have to study when they are older, otherwise how can you buy delicious food for grandpa in the future?" When dad said goodbye to grandpa, when the trees outside the window fell backwards, I didn't know how long it would take to see grandpa again, and I didn't know how long grandpa would stay at the head of the village. Grandpa is a man with a hard mouth and a soft heart. Every time he educates me, he always brings some delicious wild fruits to coax me to eat. Grandpa, dear grandpa ~

In a blink of an eye, I have been in this county for two years! From a self-abased baby who was disliked by other children to a naughty and lively naughty boy; From wearing the military green Chinese tunic suit made by my grandmother to the brightly colored sportswear bought by my mother, it seems that I have completed the transformation to a city dweller, but they don't know how much I miss my grandparents and the clear water and green mountains. I want to follow the children in the village to herd cattle and sheep and bake potatoes on the hillside; I want my aunt's brother to take me to dig medicine to earn money and then buy spicy strips to eat; I want to pester my uncle to pick wild walnuts in the forest when the leaves are yellow; I want to go skating in the ravine with my brother and my hands in the winter. However, in that era when the traffic was not very developed, it was really difficult to go home once. Coupled with the transfer of my father's work, it was only a holiday to go home. Now or when my school is on holiday, when my parents are busy, I can't go home by car on holiday. In this way, when I was about to go to kindergarten, my father was transferred to Shuangta Town, Bulongji Township, Anxi County, Jiuquan District. What I said was the Great Gobi Desert. At that time, only my aunt had a telephone at home. When I miss my father, I would climb into the cupboard where I put the telephone and call my father. "Where did you go, Dad? When will you come back? I miss you." "My son should be obedient. Dad is in a beautiful place. Dad has to work to earn money for you. You should listen to his mother." "Dad misses you. Can I come and see you from the phone?" At that time, I missed my grandparents less strongly, because only in the city can I hear my father's voice and tell him that I miss him. At that time, I only knew that my father was making money and wanted to buy me toys and clothes. I never thought how much my father would suffer and sweat. Until now, I have turned out the photos of my father on the Gobi Desert from home, and listened to my father's story that the wind and sand blew, and when I slept, the quilt was full of yellow sand. Years have carved vicissitudes on his face, and the wind and the sun have erased his young appearance. However, he will always be a father, a person engraved in his heart, a person who can't let go, and loves you!

Here, I want to add a camera to my father to pay tribute to my dear father.

"Potato cake, chopped green onion cake!" Early in the morning, I heard the vendors shouting and shouting. Soon, the fragrant smell of chopped green onion lingered on this asphalt driveway. Because the kindergarten is in front of my house, I spend an hour more in bed than other children every day, but the smell, turning around, slipped into the door and got into my nose. "Come on, get up and buy your favorite shredded pork cake." My mother gently lifted the quilt and touched my flat belly. "It's sold out if I don't get up." When my mother called me again, I had already dressed and stood in front of her eagerly asking for money.

"Uncle, bring me a shredded pork cake and a chopped green onion cake." I stood in front of the stall (that is, a handcart modified by my uncle who sells cakes) with a dollar given by my mother, and swallowed my saliva over and over again, waiting for the hot cake to come out of the pot. As far as I can remember, my father has always been a white cake with a pot of hot tea, and a small electric stove has accompanied me throughout my youth. Until now, I have occasionally pounded the tea pot and chewed the baked hard pot helmet, which has a unique flavor! I don't know who will remember the uncle and aunt who sold chopped green onion cakes. They got up early and worked hard, and witnessed their dependent love. The smell of cakes is like the fragrance of roses telling their ordinary romance! In fact, the same is true for mom and dad. At that time, dad worked hard and repeated the same things every day. Getting up, washing, drinking tea and going to work would be boring for everyone, but he fulfilled his responsibilities as a father and the head of the family day and night. Maybe I will do the same in the future! As for my mother, she is not willing to be ordinary, not willing to eat soft rice. Maybe sometimes she pays no less than anyone else, not only housework, but also her own career. Although my mother doesn't read much, I admire her attitude towards life and her courage to face life. What my mother taught me was self-reliance. My mother always said that relying on others and parents is always unreliable. If you do everything, you won't regret it, shrink back or give up. So every time I thought, she always supported me, but I didn't give her the expectation she expected. It's really satisfying to have them!

There are always bumps in the road of growth. Being young and ignorant always pays some price for the scratch of youth, but no matter what difficulties and obstacles you encounter, there is always someone who is silently sheltering you from the wind and rain. That person can be father, mother, grandparents, relatives and friends, or teachers and classmates. They play different roles in your growing life, adding the color of your long youth film and television drama.

unconsciously, that carefree age no longer exists. When you start to worry about not learning math, English and Chinese well, when you are afraid of not doing well in the exam every time, it means that you have to pay the corresponding price for what you have done in the future!

High school is the starting point for everyone and the transit point to another world of life. Complicated homework and heavy learning atmosphere have gradually smoothed out the edges and corners of youth. Everyone is looking forward to college life while pursuing progress.

It is this important stage, but I can't find my own direction, wandering on the edge of confusion. And this wandering is five years. After changing from a three-good student to a poor student who never scored 4 points in the exam. The sudden drop made me feel at a loss, doing functions that I couldn't understand, electricity that I couldn't understand, poor English, and so on. I learned to be lazy, to give up, and to find reasons to escape. Live a flowing life every day, sleep, go to the classroom to sleep, eat and sleep. I never know how sleepy I am, busy people are never sleepy, and lazy people can't sleep.

In this way, I slept for two years. When my classmates were preparing for the third year of senior high school, I was faced with transferring to another school and leaving the city where I lived for more than ten years for the first time. I didn't wake up and work hard. When my father asked for my advice, he fell asleep for three days, without eating or going to school, curled up in the corner of the sofa and cried silently. I don't know if it's regret or entanglement, I don't know if I can't bear it, or what I can't let go!

Maybe people make irrational decisions when they are most depressed. Without self-reflection, they always think that the new environment can change and grow. Or maybe some people have really changed, and they are brave and fearless. And some people are just quiet for a moment after a short reflection!

When I watched my father leave the school gate, I didn't know whether I felt that my father's rickety back was not the same as before, or I expected my father to look back. The so-called affection, only at the moment of parting, tears will fill the eyes and sadness will come to mind. Discover the details that have never been discovered, find that the tall father will grow old, find that the iron man will bend down, and find that the white hair that occasionally flashes gradually increases. Some people say that a mother's love is like water and a father's love is like a mountain. One day, you will feel all this carefully. Maybe you are still young, maybe you are in a rebellious period, and you can't understand what they care about and what they have done for you. When time slowly smoothes the edges and corners, when the frustration of life hits your enthusiasm, then the original rhetoric, head held high, becomes a joke. Everything is not as simple as you think. Maybe at this time, a phone call is enough to make you cry.

at that time, the first report card was handed out, and the teacher read the rankings. When I heard the fourth place in my class, I was wrapped in long-lost pride and joy. I couldn't wait to send them a message after class and tell them that your son has changed and improved. At that time, I found that learning was not so difficult. I just needed to listen in class for a while, and then I made progress by doing more questions.

So I always ranked in the top five in that year, and received the first certificate since I was in high school at the end of the term. When I got home, I saw my father's relief and my mother's thoughts. Until now, that award is still posted on the wall of my parents' room. But in my opinion, every moment is not a sneer at myself. Obviously, I can do good things, but in the end, I ruin my tomorrow because of slackness, because I am addicted to games, because I am addicted to novels. Talk, ridicule, contempt, contempt, self-blame, when all this is in the air, the whole holiday has changed its taste, silence, abuse, temper tantrums, and slowly it has come out in self-blame. When all grievances and regrets are not vented, they become insensitive and become a scar that is suppressed in the heart, and they dare not open it and dare not face people.

I look forward to the coming of the night every day. In the park on Binhe Road, I smoke the black Lanzhou and look at the stars all over the sky. I don't know what to do tomorrow or what the future will be like! Go back late every day, even tired of that small room, tired of living habits day after day. I don't want them to worry, dragging my numb body and going home. Every time I pick up a pen, I write down what I think, sigh and fear of being discovered. What I write is something that looks optimistic: you see me smiling, I am happier than anyone, and what I show in front of everyone is my smiling and hypocritical self. So I look forward to the night, sitting in an empty corner, 3 ml Erguotou, a bag of peanuts and a bag of black Lanzhou. Obviously, I haven't learned it yet, but I choked myself to death and choked my tears. This is also a reason to cry. When I get dizzy from drinking regularly and stagger home on my bicycle, I feel unhappy in my heart.

That night, it snowed heavily in Ran Ran. When everything was covered with white, I remembered a song called White Autumn, but it was not autumn, and there were no snowflakes to meet the fallen leaves, one after another. I may be a sentimental person, a melancholy and boring person, pushing a car, alone, a cigarette, walking along the river bank for a long time, trying to meet someone, but I don't know who I want to meet. Is it a girl I used to like, or a aimless girl like me? There are few pedestrians, and occasionally passing vehicles are in a hurry. I have become a passer-by in their lives, with no impression and no trace.