memories

"Time flies, I am crossing the threshold of youth; The day is walking, but I have not stayed for a long time, suddenly look back, suddenly found that many good things in the memory of the flow of time, only flow down the shallow track......"

Outside the window, the wind rises and the rain falls.

I leaned on the window lattice will one after another falling raindrops to see a transparent, distant sounded the melody, memories in mind wanton shuttle.

Countless raindrops pour down from the gray sky, like whose memories are scattered to the ground...

I reach out my hand to catch it, but it is full of wet hand, I can not keep it, just like my sadness, inadvertently slip through the fingers, the wet I do not know is sweat or rain.

"Time goes by, time goes by."

Time will not stay, because of this, I hate memories, I am afraid to stop in the past, so closely follow the pace of time forward, in fact, I was wrong, memory is the most sacred, even God can not touch. Different memories make us different, so in this seventeenth summer, I began to recall for the first time...

I thought of myself when I was four years old, clinging to my mother at the seaside because I was afraid of the water.

I thought of myself when I was seven years old, eating grapes in the garden with my friends.

I think of a spring outing when I was fourteen years old, and my classmates pushed the teacher into the river when I was myself;

I remembered the sour feeling my nose felt when I left my best friend after junior high school.

How can you throw away these memories?

The years burn in the fire, after all can not take away everything, the remaining ashes become memories, like the old folk song sung in the moonlight night, or the old castle, slowly wandering spirits. Memories locked in my mind for so many years, countless figures in front of my eyes shaking, their smiling faces, as well as mine, I can still remember.

"Memories, drop in the left hand solidification into loneliness, fall in the right hand into eternity." It is the end of a story, but the pace of youth will never stop.

The distant music stopped abruptly, so suddenly, the memories of this summer afternoon all locked up. The inexplicable sadness just now vanished and evaporated with the rain.

The road we've traveled, the mistakes we've made, the successes we've had... All confirmed by our memories. I thought I had forgotten them, but they are still locked in my mind, waiting with me to blossom and fade.

A child who had been afraid to stay in the past began to love memories this summer