Memories are untouchable and amazing prose.

Memories are untouchable and amazing prose.

Memories are untouchable and amazing prose. In daily life, I believe everyone has read many essays. Some people will describe what is happening around them through words. Let's share our memories with untouchable magical prose. Let's have a look.

Memories of unreachable amazing prose 1 In the days of beginning of autumn, I walked in the street in the early morning, watching my grandparents who got up early to buy food and watching the children who were training during the holiday. I'm really sorry. It was a busy day, but at that moment, I looked at the early shops, but it was only a sudden moment, and memories came in an avalanche, occupying all my thoughts.

At that moment, it suddenly occurred to me that in the early mornings of those days when I left you, the summer sun woke up early, and the slowly rising bedroom was bright. Because of the sunshine, we woke up early, opened the bedroom door, stood on the balcony outside the door, took a deep breath of air, drove away the sleepy people who had not woken up, and started this unknown and beautiful day. After washing and dressing, we changed into clothes and went to buy breakfast with friends. At that time, we often struggled about what to eat. Sometimes we are speechless, but we will continue to struggle. We went to the breakfast stall, ordered what we wanted, and then waited to go back to the dormitory. Such days go on day after day. I didn't feel how special and rare I was in it at that time, but I really passed and left. At this time, I discovered how precious such a day is and how warm it is to buy food hand in hand. Now think about it. At that time, we hated getting up early in the morning and felt helpless, but it was warm in retrospect, because the days together were warm in our hearts and very happy and simple.

Suddenly, I want to cry. Those days that I was reluctant to part with not long ago are now nostalgic, but I can't go back. Maybe that's what memory is all about. Just a touch can set off waves again and again, making people unable to extricate themselves.

Maybe it's just a very simple thing, a very common thing, but it can touch deep memories so easily, or maybe we never let go of such a period of time, so we didn't want to leave until we saw something that seemed familiar.

Memories are intangible and magical, but we must go on happier with those beautiful memories, so that when we look back at the next stop, we will feel that this road is worthwhile!

Memories are untouchable and amazing prose. I used to think that, like dandelion, I could go with the flow, absorb the essence of the sun, the moon and the stars, thrive in the soil, never dig into the past quietly again, and forget all the sufferings in the world ... Later, when I grew up, I suddenly found that it was impossible without memories! On the road of life, there is one thing that goes with me. Even in my dream, I am full of memories.

Memories of hours of light, emitting bursts of grass fragrance. The wheel of years left the dirt of the past on the track of life journey, which was gently rolled up by the wind. The happy time is over, only the wings of memories fly to me quietly, with a touch of sadness ... Autumn leaves fall gently with the wind, and the beauty and tranquility fall in my heart. The scene in front of me seemed to bring me into the autumn story of my childhood at once. Therefore, the tidbits of the past have never stopped, always accompanying me on the road of life, leisurely and gentle.

Men stand at thirty. However, I'm 30 years old and I haven't achieved much. I always have those memories that accompanied me through the ups and downs. The word' memory' always seems so pale and powerless in the real world. I can't forget the past, and I can't erase the "corner" about myself in the story. Sometimes I feel that even the best memories will bypass the simple good memories because of some painful "tidbits".

Like a person in the corner, quietly nostalgic, miss the beautiful past. With my memories, I can get my lost happiness, and with happiness, I can cover up my loneliness and melancholy now. So inadvertently, I learned to miss and cherish, and learned to laugh and remember! Writer Anne Baby said: Memory will bypass some paragraphs because of pain and stay in a simple moment. One more friend, one more world. Looking back, you are no longer a lonely person.

Memory is like an addictive "poison" in my world, and I rely on it so deeply.

September is crisp in autumn, and the sun is warm. It extends a warm hand, which makes people feel very comfortable. I remember that every time I went home to visit my relatives on holiday, I kept getting under the table and sorting out the "magic weapon" in the cupboard that could wake up my long-sleeping memory. I think these feelings are enough for me to walk in a kingdom full of stories from reality. Seeing a yellowed photo and smelling a scholarly letter made ripples on the calm lake. Yes, reality and the past are separated by the sea of Wang Yang. I think memory is the best way to taste the beauty of passing away. Although nostalgia is sometimes sad, I am willing to continue to be so sad. In this eternal youth, many people have left many people to come. Even if it is impossible to go back in time, it is not a kind of beauty to remember what compensation is quietly.

Remember, you were poisoned and I loved you so much a long time ago? If there is an antidote, forgetfulness water or Mengpo tea in this world, then I won't choose to forget! When I am dying of happiness, I will always turn the picture into an album and store it in the "host" of my brain for me to read when I am old. In the green square, Xi often likes to open those pages-the joy of just wearing a military uniform, the night when we sing "Our Soldiers" when we are homesick; Mother is as soft as cotton candy.

The "toxicity" of memories has penetrated into my bone marrow, and I have been "poisoned" deeper and deeper, to the point where I can't extricate myself. Nevertheless, I am still willing to continue unswervingly: recalling the lost youth and recalling every classic old song; Memories of friends with deep friendship. Perhaps, I am too emotional and nostalgic. The relationship between memory and the past is not subtle, but broken and tangled, and I don't want to cut it off.

Although this kind of thing seems fearless, it has gradually become the main theme of my life. Everything seems so beautiful, and all the sweetness and shortcomings are in it. Whenever I want to wander in the past, I am like a lonely autumn goose, looking back at the back of time from time to time. It is really ridiculous to see my naive self in the past; There are also playmates who played hide-and-seek in rape blossoms when I was a child, which is pleasant and unforgettable; And my comrades-in-arms and brothers on the road to youth, happiness is enough. Life is not perfect, sometimes I think of my mistakes, but now I want to reshape the past with memories. The road of life is bumpy and full of difficulties and obstacles. I recall the forces behind those injuries, strive for a sunshine avenue, and strive to break out of the encirclement of fate. Tired, imagine an old fisherman, wearing a hat and hemp fiber, sitting quietly on a wooden boat and fishing in the lake. Years are quiet, gentle and calm.

Every bit of the journey of life can make me forge a resolute and correct course in the rain and snow facing the wind, so that I will not deviate from the track of life, drifting quietly in the sky with contentment, happiness and regret, never tired of it and never forget to return.

Our life is like a drama without rehearsal, the only protagonist is ourselves, and it passes like a beating note, echoing throughout the performance. Time flies, the years are ruthless, lamenting that time is like a lifetime ago. The pictures in many stories have gradually drifted away and become obsolete, while memories are still trying to search for the scenery they have walked through, and the pages are precious. The fireworks of the past bloom in the confused world of mortals, like cool breeze and bleak autumn rain slapping the protagonist's face.

Memory, you are an addictive "poison". You love too much to be saved. I don't think I can quit in my life.