In the Mood for Love Essay Collection

"In the Mood for Love" refers to the time when we are a little rebellious, a little willful, a little moaning for no reason, but without losing the vitality of youth. The following are three essays on "In the Mood for Love" that I have compiled. Welcome to read! Years Essay 1

Many years ago, a song that accompanied growth and a diary that recorded time formed a word called youth. That was the first time we experienced it. The beauty of life is also the first time we understand the meaning of cherishing.

Looking at this long road of life, everything seems to be in a hurry. Last night's dream still interprets that poetic chant. , but the moonlight now has wiped away all the echoes of memory from those smiling faces in the old time.

Perhaps, there are many things that are destined to become as long as they pass. Stories; there are many people who are destined to become old friends as long as they are separated. It is precisely because of this, because some people come in, that the stories become so colorful; it is precisely because of this, because of the coming of people. The passing of some people makes the story so unusual.

Feeling the emotions of this hurried encounter, I can only hide all my sighs with silence. Tell yourself to be strong and learn to face everything with a smile. Even if the cold loneliness freezes all the warmth in life and eventually turns into a boundless snowy night, I will still smile, not for anything else, just for I cherish and reluctance to meet or part ways.

The night is gradually getting shorter, surrounded by the soft moonlight in the sky, it seems that even my breathing has fallen into a gentle dream. The years sing the elegy of youth, letting the soul drift to the distant boyhood, quietly listening to the sound of butterflies spreading their wings.

However, perhaps the pace of time is too hasty, when we. While I am still immersed in the memory of the past, the years have left a puzzle in my heart forever. On the last night when the fireworks were dimming, it depicted the confusing smoke and clouds in the world and turned into endless sorrow in my heart.

Time has passed, and we have forgotten a lot as we go around. We cannot remember the arrival of some people, and we cannot remember the departure of some people. It is like the dissipation of a breeze, leaving all traces behind.

I often ask myself in front of the bright moon every quiet midnight: How much of my experience have I remembered? How much have I forgotten in the rush of time? I can’t remember how many people have come and left in my life. I can only vaguely freeze them in my heart.

I have always missed those who have accompanied me through this journey. Passengers of another time.

I have always missed the time I spent with you.

I have always missed the moments I have experienced with you.

When I think about the past, I don’t know how much I have forgotten and how much I still remember. But no matter whether it is familiar or unfamiliar, I seem to have never forgotten it. I just don’t know why, but suddenly I can’t remember it. Maybe this is the terrible thing about time! The more you miss, the more you forget, and the more you forget, the more you want to find.

If youth is a long river of forgetfulness, then time is a vast ocean of amnesia, in which we are just a drop in the ocean. After leaving a smile in the ocean, how much can we retain from yesterday? Just like our wonderful years, we always think of some tortuous past events in our memories; there are always eternal sparks flashing in the illusion. So in such years, my words were deeply embedded in time, and left the vicissitudes that only belong to me on the forehead of the years.

I remember someone said: "A life without longing is a incomplete life!" In our colorful youth, longing may be the most beautiful scenery and the most worthy art to taste. Perhaps our maturity is inseparable from the notes of longing, just like the graceful dance of quicksand is inseparable from the wind.

Time is too long and we miss you too much. Before we know it, we have all reached the edge of the end of our youth.

I have always been very lucky to meet you one by one in this youth drama.

I have always been very fortunate to be able to walk through this river of youth hand in hand with you.

I have always been very lucky to be able to recall the wonderful spring and autumn with you.

Although time passes ruthlessly, our story has never faded. I will always cherish and remember this youth gift that belongs only to us.

Thinking of those smiles from that year, I seem to see those figures, those scenes, and those stories from the past again. Dear friends, I wonder if you are doing well over the years? Do you still remember the most youthful memory in your life? Do you still remember this happy time that only belonged to each other? Do you still remember...

Looking at the clock on the wall, time has passed without realizing it. I gently opened a window, looked at the pale clouds in the sky, and muttered Thinking about his own mortal past, and then letting his lonely soul take off in the ocean of words with a gently echoing sigh.

The night is late, the wind has stopped, the moon has faded, I am drunk... In the Mood for Love Essay 2

Youth is like a beautiful song, composing a cheerful melody; youth Like a never-ending merry-go-round, full of vitality chasing; youth is like a beautiful picture, drawing a gorgeous stroke; youth is like a movie, showing our Mood for Love all the time.

In the Mood for Love, full of vitality.

Look! There are vigorous figures everywhere on the playground. On the track, the two are side by side, chasing each other, not giving in to each other, competing with each other, and encouraging each other, moving forward together. Next to the sand pit, a person is taking a run, jump! Wow! marvelous! Bang! Bang! A group of students are fighting for hydrangeas, it's so lively. These swaying figures show the youth and vitality of the students.

In the Mood for Love, full of competition.

Look! In the classroom, everyone is working hard, and the sound of arguments discussing issues can be heard from time to time. In the dormitory, I often read hard with a flashlight. In the restaurant, the students were still holding the materials and reciting them, never letting go of any time. Sometimes when I feel tired, I look up and look out the window. After my mood calms down, I gain more persistence and join in learning again.

In the Mood for Love, full of laughter.

Look! There was a person singing loudly in the dormitory, adding a sense of fun to the comfortable environment. Sometimes when I feel tired, I just stand up and everyone in the dormitory sings in unison, followed by unstoppable laughter. Sometimes it feels monotonous, so I recommend someone to tell a joke. I will never stop until I laugh out loud and cry.

In the Mood for Love, full of love.

Look! A little girl on campus fell down, and bright red blood flowed out. The anxious child kept crying. Suddenly, a clean handkerchief was handed over. The blood quickly soaked the white handkerchief, so he picked up the little girl and ran without hesitation. To the infirmary.

I love my youth, I love my Mood for Love!

Because they embellish my life and make my life colorful.

Because they sang my life, thus making my life a symphony of ancient music.

Because they bloomed my youth, thus making my life full of flowers. In the Mood for Love Essay 3

In the Mood for Love seems to be a name with symbols and metaphors. Behind its bright and rich name, it exudes a poetic feeling.

However, we cannot see the realistic reflection of In the Mood for Love in the movie. Women are no longer so young, and men are no longer so young. They are no longer flowers. They are young men and women. They are mature and they are like fruits. The woman is Mrs. Chen and the man is Mr. Zhou.

Women and men walked, worked, ate, and passed each other in the sluggish light and shadow.

In this movie, there are repeated scenes of women and men passing each other. Sometimes it's at the door, she walks in and he walks out. Sometimes it's in the hallway, he walks by, she walks by. Sometimes on the corridor outside the house, she walked up with the food she bought, and he walked down with his hands in his hands. They passed each other countless times without speaking or even smiling. The air was silent. The light was dim. Movements are sluggish. Everything seemed stretched. Time was long there, time was long between his arm and her shoulder, time was long in the past.

In this movie, time passes. Women and men are in the past. In that past, they are the people of the past. She wore a cheongsam and had a high pompadour, somewhat like the taller pompadour of the Tang Dynasty people. Women seem to be more able to mark the position of time in time. Her cheongsam and her pompadour are the past.

She walked in that past time. He is walking too. List the mottled walls, list the rusty doors and windows, and list the simple little food stalls on the street. Damp rain fell on the old streets, and voices and words were like steam in the simple houses. The telephone is old and the music on the radio is old. Even the red velvet curtains hanging in a luxurious hotel have a distant feeling; even martial arts novels seem to be in the past.

However, how warm it is! How warm everything was in the past! There is warmth on the mottled wall. There was warmth in that narrow room. There is warmth on the iron kettle that is emitting white smoke. There is warmth in that monotonous tune. There was warmth in the noise. There is warmth in the gray rain, and there is warmth in the classical love. Everything in the past seems so warm. Time is passing by, but time seems to have not passed at all. Time sticks to the wall, to the doors and windows, to the street, and to the iron kettle that is emitting white smoke. Time piles up layer upon layer on top of it all. Time is passing, but time is also stopping, time is also parked, and time is also accumulating. Time bakes warmth in the accumulation. The walls are peeling off over time, and the doors and windows are growing red rust over time, but it is the peeling wall skin and the red rust that are filled with the warmth baked by time. Passing through is warm, being old is warm, and the past is warm, because someone has walked through it, and you have walked through it.

Those who are looking for the past are those who long for warmth. Everything new is cold. People are beginning to feel the invasion of cold in today's increasingly new and sophisticated world. There is no warmth now. People nowadays seem to be trying their best to wash away the relics of time. Time seems to be no longer left. Time cannot stop on the wall of the present. Time seems to be unable to bake anything like in the past. Even love refuses time.

But those two people, in the movie, they love each other anciently, so pure, so pure. The two of them sat back to back in two rooms. She leaned her head against the wall, and he leaned his head against the wall. A simple tune sounded beside them, and the simple voice sang: In the Mood for Love.