Write a composition on the topic of amnesia

1. composition: the best answer to writing a composition on the topic of memory is that we are gradually losing all our memories, the name is, the age is, and even the people who have loved or hated.

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I remember a line in "Ashes of Time" that says: The biggest trouble for people is to have a good memory. If everything can be forgotten, every day in the future is a new beginning. How happy do you feel?

Who knows, we are walking through the memory and forgetting, the bustling scenery and seemingly illusory light converge into a kind of loneliness, and the happy hours of the past precipitate into a wisp of smoke. Many days, we are wandering in the space covered by sad words, alone, banging on the keyboard, wandering alone. Sometimes it seems like a lonely fish, occasionally shaking its body, turning the turbulent water waves into words, waiting for the interpretation of a bosom friend.

I often say to myself, "Forget it! Find a brand new self. "

Lovely memory is a very strange carrier. Often the more you want to forget, the less you will forget, and the more you want to remember, the less clear you are.

So, maybe, sometimes, starting over may be the best choice.

……

However, when it should have become an unforgettable memory of beautiful scars, the meaning of life has become miserable.

Yes, when the memory disappears, the soul will disappear. We have become butterflies in love, looking for the freedom of love between remembering and forgetting, but not everyone's love can stay until tomorrow.

……

There is also a saying in "Ashes of Time": When you can't have it, the only thing you can do is not to forget it.

Time is no longer, just, fortunately, there are lingering memories, so that we can go back to the old place where we have been, fantasizing about holding Yi's hand to point out the starry sky, and the gentle moonlight is still precipitating our story, conveying the laughter and broken love we left when we looked at the moon.

It is said that the memory of fish is only 7 seconds, and after 7 seconds, it will be another reincarnation. After 7 seconds, it will forget the sound, color and light of the past and re-enter a new world to settle down.

Is it really willing to forget that it passed another fish 7 seconds ago and give up the familiar Ikezawa country 7 seconds ago?

We are also on the verge of memory and forgetting. ...

Although the fish only has a memory of 7 seconds, it is important that if it can stay with the person it loves in the next 7 seconds, there will be new memories to recall.

I only pray that if we forget, at least we have cried together, laughed together and been to those beautiful places together.

Sometimes we really want to forget some pain, but we are more afraid of forgetting those beautiful things.

About memory-we are helpless.

The 2.800-word composition, entitled Recovering the Lost Memory, has been going back and forth. In this life, the West Lake has been long since ancient times, and its feng shui paddles are light. "

The sky is still cloudy.

Suddenly I have a strange feeling, an invisible intuition that makes me look for the lost memory.

Spring, which was warm and cold at first, was so cowardly that it was swallowed up by ruthless remnant winter before it could spread. Winter did not change the nature of killing because of the softness of spring, but gave it a fatal blow when it was still breathing. Because of the warm spring breeze, I am tortured by the whistling cold wind, and it seems that the sky will snow. I want to completely bury this weak vitality.

I take a walk in the park.

Walking on the forest path is so quiet that I can hear my heartbeat. Suddenly, two girls appeared from my sight. They were talking and laughing with rackets in their hands. The picture suddenly came to my mind-yes, it's one of my memories, and I found the fragments of my memory.

In the main entrance square, two vigorous figures jumped into my eyes. The landed badminton was picked up again and continued to fly with the efforts of two people, but the long arc that crossed the air was drawn in my heart. My memory was awakened and pulled back by reality: the ball landed and could be picked up again, but it was not broken; But what about the heavy friendship?

There is still ice on the green and quiet lake, and the cold wind swept across the lake, breaking this beautiful mirror and causing ripples. Green water is worry-free, because the wind wrinkles the face-after all, it is a flower in a greenhouse, and when it is tested, it often cannot stand the wind and waves. There is a shabby duck house floating on the lake, and the ducks in it have long since disappeared. I know that on that snowy day, there were two ducks standing on the ice covered with snow and ice, shivering in the cold wind. A figure stopped on the frozen lake to study them, and there was a figure behind them. The two ducks failed to survive the severe winter and disappeared forever; The flowers withered in the cold wind before they opened, leaving only yellow branches.

Pick up the dry bud, it is so fragile that it breaks in the palm of your hand with a touch. The messy fragments once contained many beautiful memories of the past. Now, they have all drifted away, leaving me alone in the cold wind. Maybe this is my memory. ...

If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that I once loved someone madly-Sean.

If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me: I love Tianshui in Gansu because of him, not because of how beautiful the place is, but because the person I love is there. If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that I have watched his MV video countless times, and I am not bored.

If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that there are many photos of him in my mobile phone album, and the mobile phone wallpaper is also him. If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that my space will change a lot and I will write a lot about him.

I also read a lot of their logs and wrote about him. Most of the photos are his.

If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that when I am sad, I will think of Sean and smile. If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that I will be proud of my idol when I see Sean set a new record.

If one day I lose my memory, I hope someone will tell me that he is my idol and I am his orange.

4. Writing a composition on the topic of "loss" is also a kind of beauty.

Autumn wind gently blows the treetops, and red maple leaves fall from the branches one by one. Everything disappeared in a slight sigh and finally fell silent. ...

A person in an unnoticed corner seems to be forgotten by the world. At this moment, I seem to forget the whole world. After repeated failures, I no longer feel lost. After all, the branches are not the eternal destination of the red leaves, and the red leaves are destined to leave the branches that have been dependent for a long time. Perhaps, this kind of loss is actually a kind of beauty, a kind of beauty with sadness, a kind of beauty that conforms to nature.

Since it's lost, why look for it?

I once caught a glimpse of a short article in the newspaper that I thought was incisive enough. A gentleman accidentally lost thousands of dollars while traveling abroad, but there was no heartache. Colleagues asked him why he was so calm, and replied, "Since you have lost it, why lose a good mood?"

Isn't it? Life cannot be perfect. When we get too much, we will inevitably lose some. If it is destined to be ours, it will naturally be owned; But we tried hard, but we still can't get it. Losing may be the only choice. Why do you feel sad and painful because of loss? In that case, we will lose twice as much.

Therefore, in the face of loss, we should treat each other calmly.

Of course, not everyone can face the loss calmly. Because everyone's thoughts can't be exactly the same, and because of the different understanding of loss, there will be different reactions in the face of loss. Only by taking loss as a kind of beauty and a natural law can we lose it unintentionally and not lose more because of it.

Facing the loss calmly is a kind of otherworldly. With the harvest, I am flattered and have a good mood to face the loss. We can calmly face the loss in real life, not for things, not for ourselves, and treat it indifferently. In essence, are we not beautiful enough only after the baptism of loss?

The road of life is very long, everyone's life can't be smooth sailing, there are always some bumps ... After all the things that should be lost and shouldn't be lost, I have nothing to say, but I still laugh and laugh all the way, waiting for the next upcoming harvest and the next upcoming loss with an open and natural mood.

5. Write an unforgettable composition with memory as the topic, and remember no less than 600 words.

Life is destined to be a cycle. In this reincarnation, my memory bubble burst.

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One, two, three ... a lot of memory bubbles. I often feel that my childhood is really good. In the season when flowers are in full bloom, I can play, jump and live carefree.

In a blink of an eye, the naive years have gone away from me, and the infinite beauty can only be left in my diary and in my heart. Perhaps, this is the fate of people. The better the time, the faster it passes. We have grown up slowly, and we are no longer naive because we are fourteen years old. The innocent child in those days has now become a teenager. The mind is getting more and more mature, but the burden on the shoulders is getting heavier and heavier. Most of these invisible pressures come from parents. I have to get full marks in the exam, I have to win the prize in the competition ... I can't breathe. I want to go back to the real world more and more, looking for those broken bubbles and those broken memories.

I like sitting on the grass with people, enjoying the free sunshine bath and staring at the blue sky. "Mom, mom, I want to buy ice cream, I want to buy it!" Here comes a woman and a child. The child looks only three or four years old, but he already knows how to spoil his mother. Ice cream? If I see this scene, I believe many people will think that this child is really naive, but I see my own shadow in him. But I can't do this now, because I'm not a child. I must be careful what I say and do and consider the consequences. Living alone feels very tired, and I miss the unrestrained life before.

However, people will grow up and can't stay in a certain place forever. Life may be a cycle. In this reincarnation, my memory bubble burst.

6. Write a composition on the topic of "that memory". In the evening, I sat in a small chair on the balcony. In the bright moonlight, the surroundings were particularly deserted. At this time, I was holding a book of poetry and soaking in a cup of fragrant tea. I couldn't say how comfortable I was. My thoughts drifted to the past and I remembered that unforgettable childhood memory. ...

I still remember living in the country when I was a child. When I was a child, the sky was always so blue and there was always so much laughter. I always lie on my grandmother's knees, listening to her talk about the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, listening to her sing the ballad "Pug, go to the assembly, ding Rinrin, ding Rinrin, wearing bells ..." Listening to her call me "Brother Bao Xiao", she said with a smile, tearing off some willow branches from the willow tree above her head and weaving a small willow hat for me, which made me giggle and attracted a few birds to listen and sing together. Remember, that memory is happiness. ...

In summer, the scorching sun outside, I dare not run crazy again, who has been keen on playing outside. Whenever this time, grandpa will take out the big watermelon that has been frozen in the well for a long time, and I can't help drooling and cheering. I like to listen to grandpa's "Bang Bang" sound of patting watermelon and the click sound of cutting watermelon, and I also like to listen to the phrase "Hey, another good melon" that he never forgets! I eagerly watched the red juice flow out along the gap and sniffed, feeling that there was only a sweet smell left in the air! At this time, I always can't wait to pick up the first watermelon and take a bite. Sweet and cold melon juice drips down my throat until it is sweet to my heart! Before I could say "delicious", I began to "shell" like Pig Bajie eating ginseng fruit, and even the shiny black melon seeds could not be found, while Grandpa looked at me affectionately and patted me on the back: "Good boy, eat slowly! Eat slowly ... "I nodded, let the juice run down my mouth, and then naturally put my face together. Grandpa always smiles and shakes his head, and then wipes the juice from my mouth with his hand. Remember, that memory is sweet. ...

Autumn is coming, and the courtyard wall is covered with crystal-clear grapes, which often makes me jump up and touch it again, causing the greedy doll younger than me to point to the purple ball and drag the adult's hand to take money and shout "buy, buy". And every time, grandma always pushes away the adult's hand to get the money, takes off a bunch of dolls, pats the little doll's head conveniently, puts the peeled purple pearls into the child's mouth with a smile, touches the little face of * * * with her hands, and laughs. The hearty laughter echoed far away under the blue sky and was deeply rooted in my heart. Remember, memory is laughter ...

When the wheel of time flies relentlessly, when memories gradually dissipate in the calendar, I suddenly find that I love memories more and more. Old people and children are eating watermelons, old people and children are under the grape trellis ... that flashing memory warms my heart!

The haze in front of me gradually dispersed and my thoughts floated back. I told myself: cherish the memories again and again, cherish everyone around me now, forever!

Hope to adopt

7. Write a 600-word composition on the topic of an unforgettable trip. Unforgettable journey

A piece of colored chalk, once written in the past.

At this time, I am still so familiar with it. I can still find where I've been sitting. Time flies. At that time, we were all children, smiling children and carefree children. I don't know how time flies and how to cherish it. I only know how to have fun with my friends. I only look at today's moment, but I don't remember yesterday and I don't think about tomorrow. However, the happy time of six years in primary school is like running water, slipping away from our fingers bit by bit.

It was not until the day of graduation that we might never see each other again. Only then did we realize in a hurry that the six-year primary school life was gone, and the time teacher had taken it away. At that moment, I couldn't stop crying like a broken pearl, slipping from my face and falling to the ground. Other students shed tears unconsciously, even the stern head teacher's eyes were red, but she immediately turned to write on the blackboard. The blackboard is no longer a dense, "dizzy" composition sentence in class, nor is it "incredible". What's more, there are not so many homework assignments assigned by teachers in winter and summer vacations. It's just the last graduation message that the teacher wrote to us. Among them, one or two sentences are like this: "Son, from today on, you will pursue your most beautiful dream ..." Seeing the teacher's trembling wrist, it seems that he has exhausted his best, and his heart can't help but tremble, and his tears are like a wild horse. The teacher turned around with tears on her beautiful face, but she held back. However, as soon as she opened her mouth, she cried, and so did we-

Finally, before we walked out of the classroom, everyone "painted" their names on the blackboard with colored chalk.

Time flies, in fact, I know, but still like a child, I hope that time can stop for a while and pray that the memory left on the blackboard will never disappear and leave traces forever.

8. Write an 800-word composition on the topic of "Encounter". I have memories of meeting you, but I don't regret meeting you.

Past, present and future. If there is a day of amnesia after separation, I also pray to God to keep the moment when each of us met.

Because I don't want to lose the beauty of the moment we met. Liu Che and Gillian meet in the scene where the melodious flute passes through the iris.

At that moment, like countless flying flowers, ripples appeared in the girl's clear eyes. I used to like such a scene, too beautiful and pure, without any distractions. Is a unique beauty.

This kind of beauty can only be met. The encounter between Wang Xianzhi and his concubine, Taoye, was mixed with such beauty. The Peach Leaf Crossing, which has been told through the ages, seems to record such a beautiful story: "Peach leaves are mixed with peach leaves, and peach leaves are connected with peach roots ..." "Spring is infinite, and I feel alone."

Wang Xianzhi and Ye Tao's words revealed their gratitude and aftertaste for the meeting moment. I often wonder, if one day I lose my memory, will I forget my relatives and friends? What's it like to lose everything and have nothing to rely on? Maybe, I will pray, but I must keep the memory of meeting everyone when I lost everything.

Meeting is the beginning of a story and a short life. Meeting is a kind of beauty.

Maybe, I will meet you sometime in the future. Just one morning after the rain, on the wet bluestone road.

What kind of morning will it be? On the bluestone road, the loose soil between the stones still exudes the fragrance of rain, leaving a series of mottled footprints on the sparse pedestrian road. The rain on the tree drips down into the pit, diluting the traces ... You come from the opposite side, with that faint smile on your face and soft eyes, and you gently touch the peony flowers on the roadside, just like this. I may smile, or be surprised, expecting, and quietly meet such an encounter.

This encounter, I am looking forward to, looking forward to the beauty of that moment. There will always be endless memories afterwards, so it is better to start with a bright or beautiful beginning.

Sometimes, we may stand at the window, looking at peony flowers, recalling the past, or looking forward to meeting in the future, and naturally ignore those processes that may make people sigh. That's because meeting is a beauty.

That's because, even if we have memories, we don't regret meeting! She said, "Life is like a dream." Cutting a cattail leaf fan is full of the unwillingness of falling meteors.

Fold a wicker to tell river of no return's sadness. Light a cheap incense and destroy the bitter taste of green apricots.

Light a red candle and cut off the kernel that makes people cry. Write an extra word to fill the tone of the horn of the court merchant.

Make a cup of bitter tea and water the lush grass in the courtyard. Break one string and play six strings beautifully.

When I met her, sweet-scented osmanthus floated across the sky, bringing the coolness of the moon palace. When I met her, the glass was covered with frost, and it was very cold in summer and winter.

When I met her, the neon lights stopped breathing and the stars filled the room. She told a long story, and the moonlight was particularly bright.

She told the story of meeting, the clouds all over the sky, the laughter of two bells, colorful fresh grass and flowers. She told the story of parting, a pool of residual lotus, a mournful bell and drum, an old withered vine and a fleeting time.

She told a story about time; She told a story of falling flowers; She told a story about traveling; She is telling a story about Bodhi. Who is she? I don't know. Remember, I met her once.

I met her on a dark night. The moon is round and bright. She came to me in the soft moonlight, like a white flag lamp.

I don't know why, but I think she looks familiar. I asked her, "Who are you? She asked, "Who am I?" I said, "Are you a fairy from heaven? May I call you Jiao? " She was silent.

I said, "Jiao, what are you doing here?" I saw that she suddenly remembered something. Looked up and said to me, "I'll tell you a story."

So I clumsily pulled the quilt over my shoulder, closed my eyes and listened to her quietly. Jiao told me a story about darkness. Once upon a time, there was a girl named Ann.

At the age of seven, her mother took her from a small village to a strange place. I met the wind in that distant place.

At that time, Feng came to see Ann at noon every day. Once, Yan waited for Feng for a long time at home before Feng called Yan.

So I ran downstairs happily, and then I saw those phoenix-white cloth shoes covered with blood. Yan clearly heard Feng tell Yan in a calm voice that she was hit by a car.

At that time, I was young, ignorant and scared, so I called out to my mother. Mother saw it, only scolded Ann, and told Ann to go to school quickly and send Feng home by herself.

Jiao said: "Later, I only saw the wind several times at school. Later, I never came back. "

Because the phoenix disappeared, it seems to be just a short dream, and when it wakes up, it disappears without a trace. Feng is the most sincere friend I met at the most naive age.

People always get it inadvertently and always lose it inadvertently. Always looking for, but always losing.

Always wandering, but always growing up in the loneliness of wandering. Jiao said: "As time went on, I met many helpless people and things."

For example, Ann met a man named Ash. Those people named ash hate the sight of darkness.

The cowardly darkness is very afraid of those ashes, so when I see those ashes from a distance, I will avoid them from a distance. It was dark, and I was really afraid of those ashes.

Perhaps grown-up people have long forgotten the darkness and forgotten that they humiliated it when they were young. However, black heart, who was young, planted the seeds of gloom.

However, no one knows all this.

9. Write a composition on the topic of "Memory in My Heart". Note that it is silent on the topic and has stood at the door of the classroom.

Looking at the deep classroom through the shallow window, an unknown emotion welled up in my heart, and I couldn't help but burst into tears. The anxious sun slowly decomposes the memory in the heart into bitter gas and escapes from the atrium.

Quietly, I opened the lock that looked rusty and stood at the door of the classroom with my feet straight, for fear of stepping on the memories all over the floor. The empty room echoed with my gasps.

The tension in the past has completely disappeared. Somehow, I searched on the turntable and finally returned to my original memory-Grade Three.

The years passed quietly, washing away leisure. The classroom echoed with the sound of diligence and hard work, and the desk was full of drowsiness and fatigue.

My hands are full of recited words, and my face is covered with sleepy eyes. My heart is searching hard in anxiety and loss, looking for a bridge to it.

The burden given by nature absorbs enough water in the sea of knowledge and competition and stores it on the tender shoulders. There are dark clouds of achievement floating overhead, and red forks all over the sky are like lightning, signaling a rainstorm.

Heavy rain will increase the original burden. The sleepy classroom seems to be full of vitality again.

Are supported by that tenacious will, no, it is difficult. And now, a year has passed.

Waiting for the results of the senior high school entrance examination, the tense environment makes people breathless. And this classroom, which used to be full of nervous sweat, now seems to be a space that can't be accessed nervously.

The quiet classroom gradually relaxed the tense strings in my heart. Under the great psychological contrast, tears with bitterness and hope could not help falling, and turned into memories together with the memories on the ground.

There are seemingly separated friends, and how many longings are written on the blank blackboard; The quiet classroom is full of unforgettable years. Now, say goodbye, maybe, never meet again.

I can't help looking down at my feet and stepping on my feet. So, my classroom, looking for memories everywhere, let the past thoughts evoke uncontrollable tears.

Helplessly led me out of the classroom. Standing at the door of the classroom, thinking back just now, I just wanted to, but my feet have roots.

Silently, locked, standing at the door of the classroom. The anxious sun hangs on the horizon, and I don't know how long it has been by my side.

10. Yesterday's composition on the topic of memory was still as beautiful as flowers and pure as jade. As soon as we sat in the bustling city, a sudden earthquake of magnitude 8.0 was ruthlessly destroyed into endless ruins. Tens of thousands of lives died at that moment! All the beauty suddenly changed from heaven to hell. Although the earthquake has passed, the huge losses left by the earthquake continue. The people in the disaster area have no food, clothing or shelter. My heart felt sad unconsciously.

Earthquakes are merciless, disasters are merciless, and there is love on earth. If one side is in trouble, all sides will support it. The disaster has aroused the determination and confidence of compatriots all over the country to unite as one, and Qi Xin will work together to save lives, overcome difficulties, rebuild a harmonious life and rebuild a beautiful home.

On the second day after the earthquake, Premier Wen, who was over 60 years old, immediately went to the front line of earthquake relief. His active work, gentleness and kindness have always touched the hearts of people all over the country. We all extended a helping hand and donated our hard-earned money to the people in the disaster area. People from all provinces in China actively demand to join the rescue team and risk their lives to participate in the rescue work in disaster areas.

Every time I hear people crying for help under the rubble on TV, and see those children who lost their parents and became orphans at birth, my heart hurts again and again. I want to help these poor children.

I saw a child lying on a stretcher, his face covered with white cloth and his hands clenched tightly. His parents surrounded him and kept calling his son's birth name. .. but life is so fragile, this lively and lovely child left his favorite parents forever yesterday. Watching unconsciously, tears blurred my eyes.

All these earthquakes have been affecting our hearts, and in this rainy season, they have sent a warmth to the people in the disaster areas. Even a trivial move.

May 2008 12 14: 28. We will never forget that amazing scene. Although the people in the disaster area have not been adequately treated materially, as long as we do our best and Qi Xin makes concerted efforts, there will be no insurmountable difficulties and sufferings, and the people of China will always be indomitable. I still remember what General Wen said in the disaster area: "Mountains can move." Water can block, but it can't block the feelings of mainland compatriots and Hong Kong compatriots. "After the earthquake, our country got help from the world and the rescue continued. Our sincere and enthusiastic soul continues. I believe that in the near future, we will once again see an ideal city in front of us.

We don't have too many gorgeous words to decorate, nor earth-shattering deeds, nor touching propaganda, but we touched everyone's soul. I don't know how many children became orphans and how many children were unaccompanied in this earthquake, but I only know that behind every dawn of life, there is an unforgettable sentence. This word does not need to be decorated with a beautiful brush, but it is still bright and dazzling, and that is love. The love of the people of our country.

This earthquake is not only a severe test, but also a dedication of love. After a simple face, the heart beats in the same melody. Let's do our bit for the disaster area. In extraordinary times, the test is our unity. Earthquakes are merciless. Let's work together to cheer up the people in the disaster areas and take them out of the land of pain and sorrow, such as a happy boat supporting a sad river.

Let's work together to offer precious love to the people in the disaster area. Let's stick together. Earthquake relief. ..