Junior high school diary 400 words daquan

I like the wind, the warm and comfortable sea breeze in the south, and the biting cold wind in the north all make me deeply moved and romantic!

However, I prefer rain, the drifting heavy rain of lightning and thunder in the south and the autumn rain in the north all make me sad and lingering, so my screen name is Wind and Rain Beauty!

I like rain, like it as pure as water, as misty as clouds, as hazy as fog. I also like to walk alone in the street in the drizzling dusk, following the rhythm of the rain; I like the feeling of rain dripping quietly on my body. It is a very gentle touch, just like a pair of hands gently caressing me. I like autumn rain, especially the beautiful moment when raindrops splashed on the ground and burst into a splash ... It seems that all songs with rain have sad stories, and I listened to the sound of rain and experienced every story with rain on this rainy night. There are few pedestrians on the fresh street, which is very clean and quiet. A tree in the street has been blown by autumn wind and washed by autumn rain, and the leaves float down from the branches one by one, adding a bit of quiet and deep breath to the air. Autumn stirs the heartstrings, the autumn wind disturbs the thoughts, the autumn moon gives birth to feelings, the autumn rain is lingering, and the autumn leaves are beautiful.

I like sitting alone in front of the window on rainy days, meditating quietly and feeling silently ... The rain outside the window drips like tears in my heart, and listening to the dripping rain quietly, my heart suddenly rises with a trace of inexplicable melancholy. Tears sprinkled on my heart are long and lingering, but also mixed with a little melancholy and a little helplessness. Rain is a sad tear of clouds, and my heart always cries lonely and lonely when the clouds are overcast, and it is a burst of heart rain falling from my heart. No matter what kind of story, it will be unforgettable when it rains. Rain has a magic: it can diffuse into a mood, infiltrate into an atmosphere, and be engraved into a memory. Of course, sometimes it can pour into a disaster. Breaking up is always in rainy days. Why does it have to be in rainy days? Rain is cool when it rains, gray and cold when it rains, and sad when it rains.

I don't know since when, I am addicted to my own world in the network and don't want to communicate with others. I like to stay quietly in the noisy chat room, and I like to be surrounded by strange names. No one cares about my loneliness. And I, just a trance-like shadow, linger in this familiar chat room, let the years fall into my indifferent eyes. . .

I like the night, and I like to write my mood online at night. So lonely, I belong to myself completely. I like reading affectionate articles on the internet, writing some sad words, and getting to know a person in words. I like to listen to my heart, and I am shocked by the collision of connected souls. When my soul, and I silently opposite, I finally know, get rid of all the constraints of the secular, how an indifferent and leisurely leisurely life is not enviable. Don't worry about the secular world, don't strive for fame and fortune, and add elegance to the taste of life. The delicate beauty of "flying freely is as light as a dream, and the endless rain is as fine as sorrow", the detached elegance of enjoying life and being a bosom friend of nature. . . .

Once upon a time, I always thought that I would be safe if I settled my heart in the world of love I created, and I couldn't get in or out. From then on, I don't expect to touch the wonderful world of the network any more. I won't disturb anyone or get hurt, and I will sow lightly and reap lightly. Regardless of whether it is intentional or casual, it seems to be a far-fetched idea. In my heart, it is like a post station on a long road, an end point of a long life, and a pure land in the depths of my heart; This is not an affectation, but a sincere desire.

A person is a little lonely, but his heart is free, not trapped in the world of mortals, and relatively lofty and refined. There is nothing in the world, so why bother yourself? Let go of your mood and get a peaceful, peaceful and free mood. Rain washes away the glitz of people's hearts, clears up the chaos of heaven and earth, and calms people's mood. Sometimes, it's raining outside, but the heart is sunny; Sometimes, it's sunny outside but it's raining. Many things in the world make you taste in comparison. When the heart is clear, the rain is also clear; When the heart is raining, sunny is also rain. The rain falls asleep, and my heart dances with the rain. . .

Thoughts on rainy nights

Night is invisible, and the net painted black covers you and me. I can't see you and you can't see me clearly within a short distance. The only thing that can't be covered is the intermittent rain, such as silk, thread and long thread. Rain, falling to the treetops, was stopped by branches and leaves; Falling into the field and being absorbed by the soil; Falling into the pool, assimilated by light waves. Only when it falls into people's hearts will it germinate and grow into boundless thoughts.

On a rainy night, there is only one you, just like a lilac. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I walked through the alley as long as the rain, and walked slowly into my eager eyes. The weather is beautiful, and lightning is sent in time. In a flash, the oil-paper umbrella is lifted gently, and the waterfall-like hair, bright eyes and red lips are your sketches, sketching out the extraordinary purity and breathtaking "stunning"! When the oil-paper umbrella is pressed gently, the picture is fixed under the oil-paper umbrella-a lilac-like long skirt. At this moment, the rain silk that doesn't understand the amorous feelings is woven into cloth, cicada-like cloth, and the eyes that shouldn't be hazy are hazy.

Often in a drizzly rainy night, I am used to standing in a corner of a long lane and staring at the other end of the lane. I am secretly looking forward to your appearance. I hope to capture the details beyond the silent eyes and red lips again, even the tiny fragments like rain, as material to fill the big blank on my drawing board. My expectations are not high!

Wait until disheartened, tired and weak, quietly, you come, like the first time I saw you, walking in with an oil-paper umbrella, dancing, …, and passing by.

Heart, mercilessly beaten by the rain, can't see blood, only tears, rivers of tears. Lilac-like you have been here, oil-paper umbrella has been carried, but opportunities are often missed.

What should be used to fill the blank on the canvas?

Thoughts on rainy nights

Tonight. It was a rainy night. But it's not the fine rain in the south of the Yangtze River that I love. It's a night with a typhoon and heavy rain.

Go home from work at half past ten. I didn't see this rainstorm until I got downstairs. Other people are consciously or unconsciously waiting in line for the rain to stop. Then get off work. They dare not rush into this rain. But I dare. And I did.

Go into the rain. I can feel the strange eyes of others. I don't care. The wind blew from my side. I can't control my steps. I can't control myself, just like I chose to give up in this pursuit. But I still have to move on. I have to go back to the dormitory. Head for the finish line.

I'll be home soon. The typhoon blew head-on with rain. The raindrops slapping on my face are cold and cold. Didi pricked into my heart. It hurts cold. The wind rolled up my T-shirt. Let the cold raindrops surround me and then overflow every inch of my skin. The purpose is strange. My feelings are numb. Just like choosing to give up. My heart is like water. Face it calmly But more and more flustered. The violent wind forced me to take a few steps back. I had to turn my back to keep my balance. You won't fall to the ground in the contest with it. In this pursuit, I have to retreat to the starting point and then turn my back and return to the original track of my life. Although there is a tearing pain. But I have no choice. I can only do this. And I have to smile and bless each other. Only in this way can I feel great loss because I choose to give up.

Close your eyes quietly. Let the typhoon blow my weak body. Until I tremble. Let the rainstorm wash away your skin. Wasting your soul. Let it take away every moment of laughter in this pursuit. I'm a little tired. Then it is slowly broken bit by bit.

Go home. Look at the ceiling quietly. Quietly listening to the typhoon blowing the trees in the back hill and making a low roar. Listening to the heavy rain beating on everything in the world and making unrecognizable sounds. Light a cigarette quietly. Let my thoughts walk into memories. Let your thoughts drift into the future. Let my thoughts stay in this rainy night until they slowly solidify. Condense me in every moment of this rainy night.

Tonight, I feel the sudden rain in the courtyard quietly and alone. It's like quietly feeling the pursuit that comes and goes in a hurry.

Tonight. I just want to be blank in my dream of sleeping quietly in the rain.

Listen to the rain.

The southern dynasties left behind more than 480 old temples, countless towers shrouded in the wind and cloud in the rain. -Du Mu

I like to listen to the sound of drizzle alone at night. Rain is a natural spirit, I think. Turn on the desk lamp, sprinkle a warm yellow light, soak a cup of fragrant tea, taste it carefully, and listen quietly ...

When I open the window, the fresh earth fragrance wafts in with the patter of rain. Oh, I can only feel the unspeakable and indescribable comfort. I want to listen to the natural rain again with three points of grace of Yi 'an, three points of boldness of Dongpo, three points of indifference of Qing, and a period of Nalan's mood.

The spring rain is small and warm. She is fresh but not charming. She is slim and yet vigorous. She always tells in detail about the distance and warmth of spring. Xia Yu's boldness makes people happy. She is like a stunning masterpiece. Sometimes the mountains and rivers flow, sometimes a thousand miles, and sometimes the mountains and the soil are swallowed up, which makes people feel carefree. The autumn rain is sad and bitter, which makes people feel pity. She sometimes sings and sings, and sometimes she wants to talk about it. Winter rain is no longer reserved, but her manners are dignified and elegant. Listening to the rain of the four seasons, I don't feel sad.

Rain is spiritual, and she seems to "sneak into the night with the wind and moisten things silently" according to people's wishes. The rain is also gentle, and there is no such thing as "getting wet with clothes, raining apricot flowers, blowing cold willows". The rain is still enchanting. "The rain in the sky is crisp, but the grass is close at a distance." Whenever the cold and summer are easy to celebrate, I always feel that the world is sinister and the red dust is rolling, so I yearn for that "green bamboo hat, green coir, oblique wind and drizzle don't have to return."

The tea in the cup has run out, and I don't want to pour another cup. Miaoyu once said, "One cup is good, and two cups will become a stupid thing to quench your thirst."

The wind is strong and the rain is intellectual.

Wind belongs to art, and rain is close to philosophy.

Like a person listening to the sound of rain at night, listening to the natural melody, "once the sea was difficult for water, forever amber." She keeps me thinking, which is like a white cloud floating over my heart, making it quiet and lofty.

The more sophisticated a mortal is, the more witty he is, and the less elegant he is. I'd rather have less wit and more elegance. Devoted to convert to the elegance of nature.

In the dead of night, listening to the rain with the lights on, I feel like I'm smiling.

Rain in my mind

"Rain", a simple word, is nothing at all in some people's eyes, but for me, it is like a beautiful and warm sunshine when life is coming to an end. It illuminates everything in life for you, and cleans all the dirt in your heart for you ...

My grandmother, who is always so carefree, seems to have been divorced from anyone and everything in life. I remember when I was five years old, on a rainy day, I leaned against my grandmother and asked her, "Grandma, grandma, why don't you cry?" Don't you have nothing to worry about in your life? " Grandma gave me a look and asked me with a smile, "Do you want to know?" I nodded hard: "Like me, I cry when my mother hits me." She said, "Look," and looked out of the window. "That rain." I looked at the rain and said, "Isn't that rain?" "no! That is still a god. " Grandma said. "God?" I'm confused. At that time, I thought to myself: Will this rain still give us happiness and luck? "Yes, it's God, the greatest God in the world," grandma said. "It can wash away your dirt, whether it's external or spiritual."

Later, a few years later, grandma went, forever. There was a lot of crying in the room. I didn't cry, not because I didn't love my grandmother. I loved her, and I loved my grandmother. However, a strong force made my tears evaporate and disappeared. When grandma died, her face was rosy, and she went with a smile. What is that? What is hovering around grandma's bed? That's a belief! A belief that will never leave! It followed her closely and never left. Outside the window, it is drizzling ...

After several years, I finally felt the rain in my mind! -the real god!

Rain, my god. It washed away the dirt for me, both externally and spiritually.

Listen to the rain.

Among the sounds of nature, I like listening to the sound of rain best. It sounds to me like a song or an elegant or bold sonata.

Listening to my mother, when I was young and crying in my mother's arms, as long as I heard the falling rain, I would immediately stop crying and lie quietly in my mother's arms, with my black eyes open and my breath held. Many people felt lovely at that serious look.

When I was five or six years old, when I began to remember, whenever it rained, I always sat by the door alone, propping my chin on my elbows and listening to the sound of the rain falling. Sometimes at night, my grandmother calls me to sleep, but I don't want to leave the door and still sit there, so every time my loving grandmother always sits with me until the rain stops or late at night.

Now, I 12 years old, and I have entered my youth. My childish habits have dropped a lot, but the problem of listening to the rain has not changed, but it has become worse.

There are eight people in my family, and I own a small bed. In order to listen to the rain, I specially put the bed under the window. Whenever it rains, the fresh rain sounds like charming music into my eardrums. Especially at night, I sat in my cot and listened attentively. All the raindrops in the sky poured into my heart, and my body seemed to swell up and I felt that I had added infinite strength. What a charming moment it was!

Once, during Chinese class, it suddenly began to rain. My old habit has returned, I forgot to attend the class, looked at everything outside the window, listened to the rhythmic rain, and was immersed in a wonderful realm. The Chinese teacher found my absent-minded manner and asked me a simple question. Even after calling me three times, I didn't respond until the teacher patted me on the head.

If there is a storm, the roaring wind is accompanied by the sound of rain, and one after another, lightning and thunder, it seems that there are thousands of troops falling from the sky, which is thrilling. At that moment, I will dance with excitement, and my heart will be filled with infinite excitement. It seems that I will devote myself to the hordes and kill the defeated enemy, and I am very happy. Often the rain has gone away for a long time, and my heart still can't calm down.

Winter is coming, how I long to get to the vigorous summer, and it can rain a few times, so that the bold music can arouse my infinite passion! Composition bar

Listen to the rain.

Lightning and thunder, flowers and trees, spring, summer, autumn and winter ... these are the treasures given to us by nature. Among these treasures, I like the sound of rain very much.

So, I fell in love with listening to the rain. The rainy season all year round brings me a different spiritual experience.

Chunyu is a quiet and elegant little girl. Du Fu's poem said, "Sneak into the night with the wind, and moisten things silently." The spring rain came quietly with the sprouting of branches, and people didn't notice it. But as long as you calm down and hold a cup of fragrant teas on a quiet night, you can imagine such a picture in your mind: the earth is a good rice paper. When the spring rain gently touches the paper, the green will be scattered and covered with the earth ... At this time, a song "Moonlight on a Spring River" outside the window will ring in your ear: "..."

Xia Yu doesn't have such a good temper. It was noisy, jumping and falling in droves all the way. Fall on the corrugated, windows, the earth ... Knock anything that can make a sound. That rhythmic sound seems to remind you that a rock party is about to start! Then, the wind roared and the sky was covered with dark clouds. In order to illuminate the venue, lightning was invited, and suddenly the night turned into day. When the baton in the conductor's hand moved, thousands of musicians played music. That momentum swallowed the bullfight, shaking your heart, and you can't help but turn up thousands of miles of waves in your heart, which makes people completely sleepless.

Autumn has always been called golden autumn. Then let's call autumn rain golden rain! In the drizzling golden rain, everything fell into the trough of the year. The continuous falling of golden rain brought a little coldness, but it also brought good news of bumper harvest to farmers' uncles. Sometimes when I look at the rain outside the window, I can't help drawing a blueprint of my life. My thoughts are like a kite with a broken line ...

Winter is cold in people's hearts, but winter rain is gentle and sincere. It falls slowly, removes the "white clothes" for trees, washes the streets and injects vitality into the river. It is a symbol of the arrival of spring.

Listen to the rain, listen attentively, and you can interpret the four seasons and realize the true meaning of life!

Chun Yu Xia Yu

When it comes to rain, we know it will rain all year round, but I like spring rain and summer rain.

The rain in spring is really fine, such as cow hair and silver silk; The rain in spring is so soft, it floats on people, and people sometimes don't feel it. Spring rain is like a magician. When it falls on the grass, it turns green. Falling on the flowers, bloom fell; When it falls on a tree, it will sprout ... The scenery of spring becomes extraordinarily beautiful in the magic wand of spring rain. I like the rain in spring,

Summer rain is also indispensable. Summer rain is different from spring rain. How does the summer rain come out? The weather was fine, but suddenly the sky was dark and covered with dark clouds, and soon it began to rain. It rained so hard that it splashed on the ground, which was beautiful. It won't rain for a long time in summer, but it will soon stop, and the sun will come out again. A colorful rainbow appears in the high sky, making the sky extraordinarily beautiful. I like the rain in summer.

I like spring rain and summer rain.

rain

Rain is weak, the lightest thing in the world, and it can't knock the heavy reinforced concrete building. Wawu, on the other hand, has raindrops on it, tinkling and immediately making a pleasant sound. People living in the hut also have the blessing of being close to nature in the rain. When the rain is sudden, the voice is generous and violent, like hundreds of horses singing together, like Ma Benteng. As the rain slows down, the sound becomes weaker, and it seeps into your heart gently, like the breeze in the ear in warm spring. The tiles seem to be specially set for the rain. They play dutifully, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain will overflow with endless affection.

People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and regret. Old people have the ambition of "lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horse glacier dreams"; The dying beauty has the bitterness of "and as raindrops brighten yellow leaves, the lamp illumines my white head"; Acacia lovers have the longing that "the phoenix tree is drizzling, and it will drip at dusk"; Affectionate poets have the reverie that "a small building listens to the spring rain all night, and a deep alley sells apricot flowers in the Ming Dynasty".

Rain has become an emissary for people to decorate their feelings and place their wishes.

In my spare time, I was lucky enough to return to the place where I used to listen to the rain. It happened to be a light rain that day, and I heard this familiar and unfamiliar rain. In the mist, there is a strange emotional appeal in the rain, which has not been communicated for a long time. It keeps me away and shows me that it is strange to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. I have a carefree feeling of waking up from a dream and a sense of vicissitudes after being confused.

Oh, what I met in the rain was the self that had separated time and space, and it was telling me everything before. I hesitated. I asked myself: Who am I? Still the old me?

There is a saying: "Young people listen to the rain and sing upstairs, and the red candle is faint." In the prime of life, listening to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind. " Different life circumstances make people feel different when listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the dialogue of the soul, listening to the rushing of the true feelings and listening to the flowing of the years. Apart from the echoes of the years, the sound of the rain has also brought about the regret of the past and the melancholy of wanting to talk again. It seems that only in the light rain of this tile house can the soul breathe and life continue.

The rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat ...

Watching the rain in summer

There is a lot of rain this summer. Whenever it rains, I can't help but lie on the windowsill and watch the rain outside the window.

This summer is really like a child's face. It changes when you say it. The sky was clear just now, and in a blink of an eye, the clouds rolled eastward, and the wind kept whistling. Then a flash of lightning split the sky in half, and the heartbreaking thunder rang, and soon the sky was covered with dark clouds, as if covered with a black veil. Suddenly, raindrops fell like thousands of broken beads, making a slight "rustling" sound. (After the language of the rain is refined, it is written in one go, and the characteristics of the summer rain are fierce and thunderous.) When it falls on the ground, it immediately becomes a small splash, one is scattered, the other is opened, and one piece is beautiful; When it falls on the soil, the soil greedily sucks; When they landed on the flowers and grass, they raised their faces and kissed the rain beads; Fall on ... (Words such as "greed", "sucking" and "kissing" describe the thirst of all things in nature for rain)

Gradually, gradually, it was pouring down, and it rained harder and harder, as if it were a waterfall falling from the sky, rushing to the earth, which was simply an attack on the earth. At last, the rain poured into the world crazily, and it was (quite) overwhelming. window

The door was rattled by the rain. The whole city is shrouded in white rain.

After this lasted for a few minutes, the dark clouds slowly dispersed, the sky gradually lit up, the rain gradually stopped, but the thunder kept ringing. I like watching the rain in summer, which brings me endless fun and endless reverie.

Look, another rain is coming ...

Enjoy the rain at midnight

The dark night sky seems to be ready, and the long-simmering summer rain comes late. Tiny raindrops have no rhythm, falling from the sky and swaying with the wind. Uneven, discontinuous, a little bit, waves, gradually, I recognized its melody, which seems to be its sigh. In a flash, it's so urgent, so urgent. Come with the wind. I don't know whether the wind is too urgent or the rain is too urgent, and the wind and rain are mixed, and the cooperation is always so seamless.

"The rain is coming, and the wind is full of buildings." Raindrops come with the wind, which is overwhelming. Feel the contention of the storm and listen to its indignation and sadness. Bean-sized raindrops fell from the sky and hit the window, making a crisp sound. Somehow I feel it is sad, crying for the night, or shouting for the dawn? I don't know. I don't know when the wind became cool and soft, and the rain also shed its last charm. The melody was so beautiful, the rhythm was so tactful, slow and orderly, adding color to the quiet night.

The rain came with the wind, went away with it, trickled and intermittent, and left with a trace of nostalgia. Leave footprints for the footprints of the wind, deep and shallow ...

The wind stopped, and the rain came down intermittently, as if to make up for this reckless behavior. The wind goes away without a trace, and the rain always drifts with the wind, adding footprints to the rapid pace of the wind. What a quick rain! At this time, the eyes are wet, fresh and clear, and the dust has been washed away, and the wind has swept away everything that should not have come. Occasionally, the rain can be heard under the eaves, and everything is calm and quiet again.

Dark night sky, dark rain ...

As the months increase, the weather gets cold.

Tonight, it began to rain, and it fell from the high night sky. Fell to the ground and made a clear sound of water droplets; It flew to the window and stuck itself against the glass, pulling it for a long time. It's watching you! It's asking about you! Suddenly, a stream of heat rushed to my heart, and an inexplicable impulse jumped into my mind. I wanted to think about it, ran out the door, opened my arms and embraced the angel of nature.

It left, came in a hurry, went in a hurry, brought warmth and brushed away disappointment.

It's coming again. What did it bring this time? Let me feel it again! It flowed on my hair and face, and slowly slipped to the ground, splashing a beautiful crystal flower. I know, I see, this time, it has brought me vitality of life and infinite hope.

Outside the window, the rain is falling, forming a beautiful ink painting like smoke and fog. Raindrop, which is neither as soft as ox hair nor as hard as a flower needle, bursts, a little, as if it didn't fall on the ground, but on my heart. How helpless and sad it is that the autumn night lights are extinguished and the drizzle is lingering.

I sit at the window and listen to the smell of rain, which is a kind of enjoyment-unparalleled, pleasant, peaceful and natural beauty enjoyment in my mind. Listen to the rain's tactfulness, depth, whisper, roar, smile, singing, shouting and roaring. Rain is the spirit of nature, and it is as sentimental as human beings. I love the whispers of spring rain, the enthusiasm of summer rain, the sadness of autumn rain and the elegance of winter rain.

Listening to the rain, the rain is like a flower whispering to the ground, conveying a kind of yearning, a blessing, a comfort and a ray of warmth. It is a sacred flame that opens my dusty and silent heart.

436 Respondent: The One-armed Heroes of the Condor-Level 1 2010-3-1519: 33.

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