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25-08-2007 军训后“ 时间过得好快啊，为什么军训就结束了呢？”
我说这句话高一的小朋友会不会打我？？？嘿嘿。。。
但是今年真的觉得军训好快，我还没有去几次男生寝室雷~~~
以后就真的没得去了的说！！！（本来想打很多感叹号的地方）
想到这次军训有好多回忆的，但是介于我这里（右手指脑袋）容量比较小，这里（亮掌）比较懒，这个什么地
我就写一点我们经典“CEH"（看不懂就不要看）语录和事情：
1.那个”金猴子嗓宝”还有伐？
2.裘裘说故事---“周萍老师说‘你们这些人。。。阿？！。。。告诉你们。。。只有两个字好形容---厚颜无耻！’”
3.这次知道了春华楼222是——————鬼屋~~~厚厚，再补充一句，今年开始还有人会住！！！
4.高一小朋友们的华丽歌词“死了都要站，不站到抽痉不痛快”
5.主持人初赛，一个5班的小朋友，玩”非常六加一”。。。我不幸地沦落为“山西大妈”，而带他们班的沈炯得到“美眉”一个！什么待遇！！！
6.主持人初赛，还有一个5班的小朋友。。。瓦卡。。。说话的时候，那个脸叫狰狞阿~~~两个眼睛是三角眼不说，在他语气加强的地方还瞪人，越是力度大，瞪得越是用力，完全一变态杀人狂。。。想不起来那个时候谁坐第一排了，应该被吓倒了~~~汗！！
7.还有一定要记住我们的“一起ceh过”~~~（同样的，看不懂的不要看）
记住的，现在能回想出来的也就那么寥寥几个。。。但是我知道，所有的所有，都会永远存放在我的心中。。。
本来想写一点感动人的东西，突然一个抽筋，“ceh"了一下，就变成这种风格的小东西了。大家能看就看吧。我不保证质量！！！
18-08-2007 Carouselcarousel, carousel,
转啊转
你转的是那么快，
荡阿荡
你荡得是那么高，
四岁的我感觉自己是那么渺小。
拉着妈妈的手，
拉着妈妈的手。
那双大手如此坚定的牵着彼端
胖嘟嘟，肉乎乎，嫩嫩的小手，
年轻的妈妈微笑得看着小女儿。
“乖，这个哪里恐怖，飞得那么低，速度很慢的。你要不要玩？”
那时的我好听妈妈的话，
妈妈说不恐怖
肯定是不恐怖的
妈妈说飞得低
肯定是我看错看不清，应该是妈妈说得那样的
妈妈说速度慢
肯定速度是快不了的
妈妈一点都不怕
乖小孩也不怕
carousel, carousel,
为什么你转啊转
把时间都转没了呢？
为什么妈妈漂亮的脸上会有从来没有看到过的一条条线？
是你刮伤她的么？
为什么你荡阿荡
却越来越低？
为什么长发飘飘的妈妈的头发变短了？
使你觉得那样太年轻太漂亮
而把它们转掉了么？
carousel, carousel,
转啊转
十六岁的我，
突然感觉不再那么快。
我的梦想好大
要快快离开妈妈，
我的心好大
大到好装下我的梦想。
可是你荡阿荡
让我不再慌张，
为什么那双和我一样大的手却不再拉着我一起向前？
那双比我眼睛大得多的双眸
那被皱纹包围着
却依然灿烂
更加深刻的灿烂
不再期盼你。
妈妈老了，
即时她只有“39岁”，
但是她老了。
carousel,carousel,
转啊转
荡阿荡
转老了妈妈
荡大了四岁的我
carousel,carousel,
我知道你会继续转
转老我
但我不知道在你继续荡好之后
被你转老过的妈妈
你是否还能承载？
或者说，那时我的手能否牵引着一双年老的手
继续去依旧年轻的游乐园。
我不知道我写的是不是诗，
因为我本来只是想把我脑子里的东西倾泻出来，
那些思维猛然间从四岁时候的照片里窜出来
让我措手不及。
收不回来的液体，
一滴，
一滴，
一滴。。。
在小时候那个不知道是哪里的游乐园
在十六岁这个sixflags
在某天的某个地方
时间就这样
随着慢慢却又快快的carousel
转
走了。
01-08-2007 Big Girls Don't Cry.... "just quoting this" :PThe smell of your skin lingers on me now You're probably on your flight back to your home town I need some shelter of my own protection baby To be with myself and center, clarity Peace, Serenity I hope you know, I hope you know That this has nothing to do with you It's personal, myself and I We've got some straightenin' out to do And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket But I've got to get a move on with my life It's time to be a big girl now And big girls don't cry Don't cry Don't cry Don't cry The path that I'm walking I must go alone I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they? And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay Like your little school mate in the school yard We'll play jacks and uno cards I'll be your best friend and you'll be mine, Valentine Yes you can hold my hand if you want to 'Cause I want to hold yours too We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds But it's time for me to go home It's getting late, dark outside I need to be with myself in center, clarity Peace, Serenity Bitter-Sweet TasteI wonder about things in life --- like the chocolate bar and the cup of white tea I am having now.
It’s easy to get why people like the taste of sweetness that chocolate bars bring, but I never understood why people choose to have white tea that gives them only the taste of bitterness. It doesn’t make sense to me, not at all! Until……
Drinking that tea is an uncomfortable experience, indeed. The liquid tasted somewhat similar to grass. I was just about to throw the tea away when a sudden breeze of air rushed into my mouth, and a refreshing breath was all that remained.
The bitterness evaporated. Is this the hidden reason why people drink white tea? A moment of bitterness becomes a long-lasting freshness? My thoughts turned to my unfinished chocolate bar. If my logic was right, it gives a moment of sweetness but where will a long-lasting satisfactory reside? So, the real smart people are not those who are buying chocolate bars, right? Though they keep eating chocolate bars for that continuous taste of sweetness, yet the second they stop, where is the taste?
I wonder if life works in the same way. Do something great, for example, marrying someone you love. Maybe you will feel that working things out taste bitter, but the moment it’s done, sweetness sweeps all of that taste away. On the other hand, I don’t always consciously seek sweetness. Making money is sweet, taking in all these notes and coins. As soon as I stop, I think I will want them more, people become greedier and greedier just because they are addicted to the taste of sweetness.
Now, I take another sip of my white tea, and I will enjoy the freshness and its bitter-but-sweet taste. 28-07-2007 Roller Coasters(1)Do people really love that thing? I don't know, maybe I should do a survey on it, OOh, I know, it can be a phsycological kind of research. People literaly love that, hummm, I suppose, right?
I have always wondered why myself had this dramatic transformation on myself, dramatically on everything of me, on me, in me. You name it, you got it! When comes to roller coasters, the change was pretty obvious. You know that kind of typical growing up thing, from regarding roller coasters as "adult thing" to holding on to the handles uptight screaming, and to letting go of both hands shouting "Cool! I love it!".
I talked with some people, girls and boys. It turned out, they had pretty much the same experience. Why is that? Is that a trait people just have? When will people just born to be not afraid of Roller Coasters?
"Blimey! Have you thought of us at all, young lady? " some random engineer for roller coasters roared.
NO, I am sorry. I certainly did not! I haven't had you lot in my mind for a while, actually, for a long time.
That made sense, huh? We must be born to be afraid of roller coasters, it should be in our nature. Orelse some people would probably go mad and accuse "me" for that reason. I don't want to be put into some position like that, so excuse me ladies and gentlemen, WE HAVE TO BE AFRAID! 26-07-2007 why writeI remember once reading a biography of a writer whom I no longer can name. When asked about the reason why he is writing, he put these words down “I can find no other writers more capable than me to express my own ideas.” This statement was hardly a reason, it’s a fact. Of course, there’s no one better than yourself to express your ideas. But just think a little bit deeper, why his ideas? Can it be, the writer’s idea is important; can it be, the his concept will change the world; can it be, his pen is even more powerful than an atomic bomb which inspires those sleeping minds and frightens his enemies. Oh, it can be! Words are food to people’s minds. A doctor can cure his patients’ bodies, a psychologist can comfort his clients, yet a powerful word can save people—no, nations-- from horror, from pain. Even when our bodies suffer in the worst condition! This sacred pen in our hands, writers’ hands can create a spiritual neverland that will help people living in shadows walk out from their deepest fears, let people living in wars have hope, enable minds blind and death feel the warmth of light. Why write? I write to inspire myself, and hopefully, one day the idea that once inspired me will inspire others. |
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