Excellent composition of Chinese in senior high school entrance examination (self-created)

I looked for it. This is the composition I wrote in my freshman year. -The taste of growing up

I don't know when the growing pains have merged into one. For me who has a lot of complaints to vent, this topic is very kind. Xin Qiji once said: "Teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow". Perhaps his carefree childhood, with the continuous development of history, left us more and more troubles.

As I grow up day by day, I have more troubles around me. Most of the things that happen at school are unwilling to talk to parents, because as long as they talk, they will make a long speech, and I am not allowed to interrupt a word, and my ears can't stand so many words coming in and out, so I don't want my ears to suffer, so I don't want to talk to my parents! However, I write what I want to say in my notebook every day, that is, my diary. After writing, let yourself appreciate and solve your own problems. It was okay at first, but gradually, I felt that my parents looked at me unnaturally, as if I was hiding something from them. (I really don't want them to know)

That day, I came home from school, finished my homework and went to get my diary as usual. Suddenly, I found that my diary had been touched, and I immediately flew into a rage. I knew it must be them when I thought about it. I walked out of the bedroom and asked loudly if they had read my diary. On the contrary, they openly stated that it was their duty to know everything about me.

I can't take it anymore. I just want to have my own blue sky. Why did you take it away so selfishly just to get to know me? I went back to my room and felt that I had nothing left, alas! Why do parents always want to know us when they grow up and don't want us to have our own ideas? Alas! How cruel!

Our life is full of seven colors of sunshine, but even if the sunshine is bright, there will inevitably be short-lived clouds. Growing teenagers will have some lingering troubles. These troubles come from life, from study, from communication with classmates ... but it is not terrible to have troubles. The key is to treat it correctly. From now on, let's clean up our troubles together, eliminate them and mature with colorful dreams.

Little boy, little trouble, carefree, happy ... "Every time I hear a third-grade child sing this song, my heart is always sour." ...

When I was a child, I really wanted to grow up, because when I grow up, I can do a lot of things I want to do, and I don't have to bear the nagging of my mother and the blame of my father.

But when I really grew up, my troubles increased. When I grew up, my homework gradually increased like a hill. After school, I dare not play or read my favorite books. I'm afraid I can't finish my homework. I can only try to twist my pen in my notebook. When the light is on, I ride my bike home. The course is getting heavier and heavier. Whenever I go home to review at night, I read a lot of books. I really don't know which subject to review, Chinese? Or math? Or geography? or ...

How I wish I had time to play! Playing badminton and watching TV for a while will probably become my greatest enjoyment. Whenever I see a large group of children skipping, I want to be one with them! But playing and remembering my poor homework, I'm not in the mood to play any more. How I want to go back to my childhood, get rid of endless troubles and be a carefree child again.

2

Under the dim light, I stared at this cup of tea, and the impact of boiling water again and again made me feel the fragrance of tea. The sweetness in bitterness is also occupied by my greedy mouth. The hazy eyes outline the hazy memory, but the memory is no longer hazy.

Too much homework "makes it difficult for us" to have fun, and the teacher's seriousness "inhibits" laughter and heavy pressure, and "creates" us in our dreams-growing troubles. Open the heavy book of memories, a little bit of thoughts, perhaps some tireless looking back on the past.

When I first arrived, a fragile me was targeted at the "weakness" by the "enemy", and that fragile me was sacrificed on the battlefield of "blood", but I stood up again with the phrase "reading with a light in my sleep and ringing a bell in my dream". In those years, I was lost in the dark. After the research, sometimes I also found a lawn that has not yet withered and yellow, sometimes it is in front of my desk, beside the window sill, watching the rows of trees standing in the distance struggling, just to give off the last touch of bright green. What trees are those? I don't know, but what does it matter? As long as it's a tree, it's enough. When I watch them in a daze, my heart will be full of thoughts. When my eyes return to the tree, my mood will be suddenly enlightened, and the pressure will be gone. I will devote myself to my busy study.

As if the fragrance of tea filled the "world", my mood was boiling.

My efforts have overcome my troubles and everything, making it seem like the last bright green, and also releasing the brilliance equivalent to summer. "Teenagers don't know what it's like to be bored", but anyone who relaxes at this turning point is "a swamp thousands of miles away, a thorn bush thousands of miles away". On the contrary, if it is hard work and perseverance, what awaits you is "a bright future, green mountains and green waters." Do you really want your troubles to turn into a wisp of smoke, haunt your soul and make you bored and upset?

If growth is a work, then worry is a typo hidden deep in the paragraph; If growth is a blank sheet of paper, then worry is a flaw stuck on the back. These tiny things seem deja vu, and they seem to bother us all the time. In the growing nature, learning, which was once like a breeze, has been attacked by storm-like learning and pressure, blowing away the depths of memory.

My hands can't feel the temperature of the tea, and the clear fog that pervades the room has quietly disappeared. Taste the water of "having fun in bitterness" more attentively, taste the troubles of growing up, "be bored", time "go" and experience "more". After tasting tea again, the "bitterness" seems to disappear with the temperature and the time measured by the mind.