Time is not old, but the years are quiet.

In a vast sea of people, meeting is fate. No matter what you become, you are a confidant, a friend or the love of your life. No matter where the wind blows in the future, what is left in the years of youth is unforgettable; No matter what our fate is in the future, our hearts will always bear the beauty of youth that has nothing to do with romance. Even if youth is gone, time is not old, and the years are quiet.

When it comes to youth, everyone has his own definition. In my memory, the real beginning of youth should be when I was in high school. A child who came out of the countryside unconsciously walked into a busy and bustling city, and a teenager who needed to change his destiny with knowledge like most people in China. At that moment, he was quite at a loss, perhaps delighted, perhaps surprised or nervous.

Some people say that high school life is like purgatory, which is true. Getting up early and going to bed late every day is nothing but studying and living at 3.1, but this kind of life should be exclusive to Xueba. How can a child like me who is mentally motivated but physically lazy be like this? I remember that in the first month of my freshman year, I slept for a month. Sleep during that time should be the best in life, carefree, and life is so moist. I don't seem to have much idea about class, thinking that just like junior high school, I can learn it by reading by myself. Listening to lectures in class is often a symphony that urges dreams and brings people into infinite good dreams. What impressed me the most was the chemistry class, which was taught by the first-class nb teacher in the school. But it seems that for me, RBL, as soon as I started class, I was sad. Sometimes I woke up and felt that my saliva had been dried up on the desk, so I had to say that nb was still my own. The lion who has been sleeping for a month seems to wake up after the monthly exam. He did badly in the exam and his mentality was hit hard. However, he really felt that his IQ was not enough after he left the class. English, in particular, was not learned well in junior high school, but in a thick English book in senior high school, the words with such a big chapter are fake, and the heart is not lazy. Later, I almost gave up. Basically, 6 points is the bottom line. A month later, I began to have some ideas about learning, and I began to make up the lessons I had left behind, especially math, which was quite good. The teachers were good and the teaching was good. Every week, we had to give small stoves to students who wanted to study. Finally, the mid-term exam is coming after another month, and any enthusiastic investment will have a good return. This time, my exam is not as bad as last time, and I am still a little ahead in my class. I remember that we had to divide subjects at that time. We were a science class, and the examination papers for science were very simple. Not surprisingly, my science scores were ok, and the liberal arts were all at the average level, and the number of people who passed was small. Unexpectedly, I was blinded by chemistry and got 86 points. It was the first time I went to high school and felt the joy of harvest. Although I was not a special cow, I was finally able to make my own efforts. Later, I was determined to study literature. Under the ideological work of the head teacher and my uncle, I betrayed the history I loved at that time, and finally stayed in Class 12, where I didn't go to the class where there were many beautiful women. Now I think about it and I still have some regrets! When people are happy, they tend to swell, and in the second half of the semester, they are in a daze. In addition, basketball, which they have always been keen on, has washed away all the enthusiasm for learning. In the second half of the semester, I have been doing nothing. I should play ball, attend classes, read early, wander, and live as usual. I don't remember whether I had fantasies about the opposite sex or secretly loved any girl at that time.

I went to Grade Two, changed classrooms, and moved to the second floor of the main teaching building opposite. I think the implication should be by going up one flight of stairs. However, perhaps it is the wish of our head teacher or the random arrangement of the school, I don't know. It seems that by going up one flight of stairs is not studying, but playing skills. After a year and a half of crazy practice, our progress in playing skills really can't be mentioned in the same breath. As for learning, I am also very serious when I am serious. There is no such thing as wandering too much and dreaming in the spring and autumn. However, there is no improvement in every exam, and I have forgotten my mood at that time. I just feel worried when I go home for the final exam, and I feel sad and sigh when I talk about my studies with my parents. The most interesting thing is to make up lessons in the summer vacation that year, change the dormitory, go away from the dark and humid collective dormitory, and temporarily move into a world of eight people. Every night during the summer vacation can no longer be described as a night-to-night strike, because there was no strike (haha), just a few people talked until midnight after the lights were turned off. I remember once again, after we played a prank for a few nights, the housemaster couldn't stand it any longer that night and secretly came to spy on us. I can only say that he was unfortunately spat on by one of our roommates, and he was probably shot. The housekeeper is an old man. She usually gets along well with us. Where do we send our clothes to be washed? This will increase his income. I only remember that night after the incident, the roommate kept saying, Uncle X, I didn't mean to. Later, it was mentioned by us from time to time as a joking gesture.

In the third year of senior high school, there is surprisingly little vacation time every week. Just two classes on Sunday afternoon, basically, I can only play ball games and go out for dinner. However, our love and persistence in basketball has never been reduced by half a point because of the college entrance examination. It's still an abnormal fire. I still remember that the best thing in high school was hooking, which was accurate, almost, a little nb (haha). Last semester in senior three, I was full of learning energy. I should have never thought about men and women before that. However, things in the world are often so coincidental. At the critical moment of reviewing for the college entrance examination, someone gave me a dose of youthful hormone ecstasy. Let me accidentally seed of love, shy. In the days that followed, I rarely recalled and mentioned that unbearable past for individuals. That's what happened, which made me seem to have lost myself in the review of senior three. I live in entanglement, fantasy and expectation instead of intense review preparation every day. Although the second half of next semester is a relief, but time is too late, and finally I didn't get into college as I wished. Apart from these, of course, there will be fun in senior three. It is unheard of that eight out of 1 people in our dormitory are personally received by the principal and the dean of the academic affairs office. It happened like this. It was a night without stars, and I don't know whether it was cold or hot. Half an hour before the lights went out, we were asked to stand in line under the dormitory building for no reason, and we were pulled around by the teaching director one by one. I can't remember what I said. Anyway, it's a high-ranking B, with the meaning of "You are great, aren't you? What are you doing? I don't want to take you all in." No one had to bow their heads under the eaves, but we were caught talking at night, and the walls of the dormitory were full of the witness of our love for basketball-basketball prints. It is said that though I have for my body no wings like those of the bright-coloured phoenix and yet I feel the harmonious heart-beat of the Sacred Unicorn, maybe only the dormitory walls will understand that we are true love each other. More than that, after the autumn sports meeting, there was a holiday that night, and a group of our friends ran out to drink. As a result, because they didn't go back to the dormitory too late, the class teacher ran to the restaurant outside the school and found us, half drunk, and finally couldn't remember how to leave. Originally, they lived in peace with each other, but two of them, with B's, went to resign from the class teacher for no reason the next night (they were all class cadres and studied quite well). Obviously, this is a challenge to the authority of the head teacher, and we have to admire their courage, so it is logical to drag us into the water. On the grounds of drinking that night, the head teacher was backstage by the Academic Affairs Office. Well, it gave us an unwarranted charge and gave us a detention for inspection. Of course, this punishment is really known to be false in our consciousness. Although it is in black and white, we are by no means three-year-old children. That time lasted for several days, and the head teacher didn't let us attend class. At the beginning, he kept us in the conference room of the administrative building and asked us to write a review. Finally, for some reason, several roommates were sent home to find their parents. Because of my pure nature, I only have a little youthful rebellion, and my attitude of admitting mistakes is still very good, and I am afraid that my parents will know that I am sad. I refuse to go home to find my parents for various reasons. In this way, I gave in in the contest between rebellion and dignity, and became a coward among them. I stayed in the conference room for like a week. I stayed there alone for three days. I don't remember exactly that I didn't attend class for five or six days. I have nothing to do, except to write reviews and sleep, not to mention reading, and I am not allowed to enter the classroom. The last few thousand words of review have been suppressed, and it seems that the longest words have been written for the first time in my life. In the end, I was not ridiculed as a coward B, but the review of thousands of words became the laughing stock of my classmates from time to time. Finally, I forgot how it ended. No, finally, I remember that some students bought black tea for the class teacher. Perhaps it was the bottle of black tea that dissolved the hatred and burned the love in our class teacher's heart! There was the same detention, and I don't know why, we were locked in a cabin next to our class. This cabin is the characteristic of our teaching building. The newly-built teaching building, which was always empty and just for decoration, was used as another private office by our head teacher, and it was luxuriously equipped with a small air conditioner. With the lessons from the past, many class teachers learned it later and opened up the private office that was just for decoration. The moment we were sent in, we were as calm as ever. Also don't let the class, let's stay there, there is no stool, because it is summer, we sat underground, at noon, with a lot of old books as a dowry, and had a good sleep peacefully. Every time there was no one in the canteen, we took the lead to eat the food that we usually had to sprint for 1 meters. Up to now, I still don't understand what the head teacher meant when he put us in solitary confinement. After we go out, we often miss the life that we can sleep well and eat well. At least there are few such days in high school.

Some people say that life is incomplete without senior four. As scheduled, I walked into the classroom of senior four. There are more than 8 students in a classroom with different teachers and classmates. It is crowded but lively. Inexplicably, I was also recommended as a sports Commissioner. From then on, a deskmate called me a sports Commissioner and never heard her call my name. I have imagined many answers, but in the end they all went away. I talked about this problem in a chat later, and she said that it was difficult to change her mouth if she got used to it, and it would be awkward to call her by her first name again. Senior four is a full year, and the class teacher and teachers in all subjects are very good and caring. Only the math teacher is the funniest. Because of his high esteem, he often boasts B in front of us. Once he bragged to us about B, saying, "I'm not afraid to talk big. In the whole grade, except for Director Pan (another math teacher of Niu B, who was our age director in the third grade), his salary was the highest." He often mentioned which doctor in China Normal University asked him a question, and later our classmates laughed at him behind his back for many times. The days of senior three are full, and there are also many former comrades in the same class who live together. They usually eat together and study together and go back to the dormitory. As for the thrilling things like the third year of high school, there is no more, but I have also met many funny and lovely classmates, and my heart is very gratified.

Youth has quietly passed through four years of high school, where I met friends and brothers that I will never forget, and made friends who can't change my classmates' relationship all my life. Meeting is fate. Thank you for passing through my youth and my life. Whether I have crossed paths with you or not, it will eventually be our own fate. Time is not old, but the years are quiet. If the four years of high school are compared to the four seasons of the year, I would like to compare the first year of high school to spring, where everything is hazy and sleepy, and everything is fine when I wake up; I want to compare the second year of high school to winter, fading away colorful, boundless vicissitudes, unpretentious, and flowing cold air; I will compare the third year of high school to summer, and the enthusiasm seems to be passionate and charming, just like our soul-stirring; Senior four is compared to autumn. Autumn is sad but fruitful, but autumn leaves are golden wheat waves. Isn't that a portrayal of senior four?

The vast sea of people and the rolling world of mortals have never stopped the pace of youth. With passion and longing, I entered the university, where another beauty in my youth began. If high school is the green of youth, then four years of college is the ladder from youth to maturity. Most universities are still pure and supreme, and there are few dark things in society that are mixed and seduce. After all, people like calling animals are a minority. I think every young man came here with a dream at the beginning, but the gap between reality and ideal, coupled with all kinds of irresistible temptations, I don't know how many people's dreams are slowly diluted in the passage of time. Youth may be like this. Without twists and turns, how can it precipitate the future direction?

When I was a freshman, it was probably the happiest time I had in college. There was no emotional disturbance, no entanglement of study pressure, and no contusion in my heart. When you come to a new environment, it always takes time to get used to it. This time it seems a little different from the beginning of high school. Although the first time I met, the university environment was very different from what I expected. The old teaching building and the narrow and shabby dormitory gave me a heavy psychological blow, but I seemed to adapt to this environment quickly. Perhaps the freedom of university and more time have given me more thoughts to think about other pleasures of life. Or college roommates, high school fellows let us single dog immerse ourselves in the feelings of brothers. Although there are many courses in the freshman year, there are not many that can be used in my heart. I must have studied English seriously. As for the rest, computer basics can be regarded as a course, and it seems that there is no more. But what impressed me the most was Marxism-Leninism. The teacher's eloquence was really first-class. There is also a cultural accomplishment class, and the teacher left a deep impression on me. I always remember that he said, "I hope a third-rate teacher can teach you first-rate students in this second-rate school." I have to say that this sentence touched me, so that I often recalled the last vivid multimedia class he gave us about beautiful love in classical literature, accompanied by the flipping of screen words and pictures, coupled with the exciting background music and his affectionate voice. When it comes to roommates, I have to say that every roommate is awesome. At that time, there were eight people in our dormitory, and their feelings were very good. There were tyrants, idiots and scum. There are handsome and handsome handsome men, sunny and lively small fresh meat, and even shy, introverted and quiet temperament men; There are athletes who love basketball, prince of love songs who are keen on singing, literary models who are immersed in literature, great gods who are obsessed with the internet, and handsome boys who ride billiards tables. Looking back now, freshman life was happy and full. I didn't fall behind in my studies, playing basketball, cycling around the city, playing games and so on. The most exciting thing should be the Three Kingdoms Killing, which was popular in the dormitory for some time. Every day, when I returned to the dormitory after class, five or six people got involved, and even Xueba was hard to resist the temptation. I don't know how long this day lasted, but I only remember that I used my mobile phone to kill until midnight every night. The most embarrassing thing is that once, when the school recruited, I went to the physical examination, and I was stripped naked during the physical examination. Finally, it is estimated that the freshman is not qualified enough, and there are still problems with his ears. When it comes to feelings, I think I didn't have that idea at that time, but I met a girl on the internet by chance last semester in my freshman year, which made my emotional experience a fate. Speaking of which, it has been