Seventh grade composition 500 words 1 "boom!"
I woke up from my sleep, sat on the bed and looked around in horror, surrounded by walls and windows. This is my room. The window was left open last night. I was awakened by this huge thunder. After a winter, I really haven't felt such amazing thunder for a long time.
It's still late at night, but I'm sleepy by thunder and I still have some urine. Helpless, I had to get out of bed and cross the living room. At this moment, I heard the roar of the strong wind, which wantonly ravaged the clothes hanging on the balcony. I stepped forward and tried to close the balcony window, but I was greeted by a sudden bright lightning with anger, which seemed to ignite the night. I stepped back in panic and was really shocked by it. Finally, I closed the window tentatively and trembling and ran into the toilet.
The light in the toilet is burnt out. Instead, under the background of heavy rain, the irregular thunder roar, the continuous sharp raindrops dripping on the anti-theft network, the violent vibration of doors and windows, and the sudden bright and short lightning all make me feel that I am in the world of horror movies. I panicked and saw that the situation was not good. I made up my mind and rushed back to the bedroom, hiding in bed in despair, looking for a sense of security deprived by this thunderstorm.
I can still hear the thrilling wind, rain and thunder under the covers, and I am still shivering until now. I don't know what I'm afraid of or why I'm afraid. In short, this feeling comes from the heart and cannot be suppressed.
It was not until the wind stopped, the rain stopped and the thunder stopped that I recovered from my panic and realized that it was spring.
Looking back now, I know how fragile I am in the face of the vitality and explosive power of nature.
The thunderstorm stopped and everything was calm. I finally fell asleep again.
I am who I am, as casual as a T-shirt and cropped trousers. I am me, a happy boy who loves talking, laughing and singing.
Don't be easily fooled by my appearance, thinking that I am taciturn and don't like to talk, but as long as I start talking, I'm afraid any topic can go far.
I love to laugh, but when I really laugh, I laugh hysterically. Laugh like a raging river, revealing dozens of big teeth. I didn't take a good picture because it was a joke. They all said to smile, so I had to do it, but I waited until the photos were developed. Oh, my God, it's not a smile, it's just a fake smile, a sly smile ... (All derogatory smiles are omitted below) Alas, although my "smile image" is not good, my smile is surprisingly low. I won't let go until I laugh a dozen times a day.
I especially like singing, especially pop songs, but every time I sing, I won't stop until I turn the tone to the northwest. Why? Because the people around me can't stand me anymore. They think sound is noise. Well, they look down on people. I will try to sing a good song, not only for them, but also for myself. Speaking of my favorite songs, I like fast-paced, rhythmic and philosophical songs: an INTHEEND by Linkin Park makes my blood boil. From JJ Lin's "The Dark Knight", I also know that only through my continuous efforts, one day I will break the darkness and usher in the light ... Why do I like these songs? The reason is simple: I think these concerts give me a very exciting feeling, just like a lonely person hearing music, he will feel that someone is singing this song for him, and he will break through this loneliness and move towards the light. I think when I hear music, I will find the rhythm of life, and sometimes even when I hear music, I will ignite a kind of power. I don't know why, maybe it's an obsession with music.
Self-knowledge is the premise, strengths and weaknesses are the key, and individuality is the main body. I will carry my personality to the end.
The seventh grade composition is 500 words and 3 words.
Quiet and serene beauty.
I closed the page slightly, holding these two words in a trance. What a subtle happiness this is. After the aftertaste, my lips and teeth were slightly stained with Du Like Ruo.
I don't need elaborate sad dialogue, and I don't need a sharp story of coincidence. I just need a very quiet and long time, warm and mellow as the warm sun in winter, and spend this floating life leisurely.
Just like that year, when we were young, we leaned against the window and watched the light and shadow in the afternoon drunk the air. One or two friends are the opposite. We don't want Daiyu to be sad about the autumn window. We just have to play guzheng and drum instruments, occasionally whisper on small notes when chatting, and make tea leisurely in a long chat. Maybe they bicker and laugh, and I just pluck the strings, not seeking the splendor of Feng Huang Yu Fei, the profundity of mountains and rivers, or the sadness of the autumn moon in Han Palace. As long as the shadow of the apricot blossom is bright and beautiful, I will only tune Wen Ya from "Fishing Boat Singing Late"-we will slowly carve this quiet year into the strings.
Just like in those days, when we were innocent, we walked among the flowers, and there was a cool breath in the evening, and the sunset hung obliquely in the sky. There is no need for Cao Cao to have too many lofty aspirations. Even when we were young, we just lay in the clover and watched bloom fall, letting strands of lilacs with scattered petals between our fingers and letting grass clippings add vitality to our hair. The fragrance of flowers is always printed in the afterglow, turning the smoke on earth into purple brocade. No cherry blossoms, no iris, no resentment, as long as jasmine is in the right corner, as long as hibiscus stands upright in the wind, as long as the sunset glow is small and subtle-quietly print this quiet year into your eyes.
Just like that year, we stood leisurely in the mountains, the gentle temperature in the morning sublimated to the sky, and the drizzle fell slightly. I don't need Tao Yuanming's cold and quiet chrysanthemum-picking fence. As long as one party is a few yards short, a flower is folded and a cup of tea is served, a clear spring mountain stream will generally turn into dust in front of me, and a wisp of lingering fragrance will curl up beside me and become a thing of the past. Then I can sing those exquisite long and short sentences loudly, waiting for the sky to separate and blow away the flowing clouds-we should carefully extend this quiet year into painters.
This may be happiness. Even if Fahua changed her hairstyle, the sea moved to Sangyuan-
The years are cool, and people are well.
Born for the pride of the dragon, born here, today's blood is boiling brilliantly.
-inscription
It is an established fact that I am always confused about my talent in an instant.
We are here, born here.
Live with him, prosper with him, die with him and perish with him.
Five thousand years, a splendid history, comes from the initial birth.
He has been to blood shed, watching the swords and swords scattered and shattered, and the red blood was overwhelming, screaming and singing, which consolidated a brilliant sadness. The feudal dynasty stood on this land, looking down at the crowd with a smile on his mouth.
He once showed the magnificent unity of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, and the fragrance of women on the banks of the water towns in the south of the Yangtze River. Song and dance instantly became immortal, fearless, but not without achievements. This is the style of looking back at the whole city.
Later, I also saw his back collapse in the light and shadow, so fragile, so painful, so unwilling. The poison brought by the powers wrestled with his red blood, shouting and pursuing the cry of breaking through the sky.
It's just that now he is holding the wound and trying to stand up, even if there is a fault that causes his wound to crack, even if the hand that once supported him is loosened, his five fingers are trying to hold something in the air, his knees are close to straight, and his eager eyes are dark but not empty.
His long black hair declared his renewed pride, and the power in his eyes twisted and twisted, waiting for a grand glory to bloom one day.
Red is his blood, and gold is his belief. The old' ballad' sings that Dajiangdong washed away the heroes of the ages, and the lofty sentiments were like water, but only the bright moon at that time, several sunsets, and the world was reborn.
Humans must be divided for a long time, and they must be divided for a long time. He firmly believes that one day he will regain his glory because of loneliness.
So we were born here, and for this, we are very lucky.
The ancients never dreamed that the end of the world and the bright moon were waiting for us to bloom in this land as the light and glory of the dragon.
Seventh grade composition 500 words 5 "How to answer the third question?" After the teacher asked the question, it was followed by the familiar urging voice, "Raise your hand!" "But still no one raised their hands. This is probably not because I can't answer it, is it? This question is so simple that no one can't answer it Of course, so will I.
Looking at the teacher's expectant eyes, I really want to raise my hand. Time slipped away and the classroom was silent.
Suddenly, I had a little impulse-raise my hand. I thought, "Raise your hand is better than being slapped by the teacher." But looking around, those hands, whether strong or delicate, are hanging so feebly that some students even bury their heads in their arms, making them feel that "something unexpected is coming." I can't help but froze. Is this still us? Didn't we always like to hold our hands high before? Don't you always like to answer the teacher's questions?
"No one will?" Encouraged, the teacher asked, "It doesn't matter if my question is answered wrong. Have confidence in yourself." At this time, I couldn't help it. I raised my hand slightly, like a little green in the desert. But just as I was about to raise my hand, my hand fell under an unknown pressure. Alas! What a wonderful classroom atmosphere! Can it come back? I turned over two pages of the book distractedly, but I didn't know what I was turning over.
"alas! Let's keep talking! " The teacher's long sigh broke the silence in the classroom. I seem to wake up from a dream that lasted for several years. In an instant, the impulse to raise my hand overcame my fear. Yes! I must raise my hand! I could have! Perhaps this is my naivety and naivety, but I am willing to be so naive and naive; Maybe it's only when you don't answer and raise your hand when you meet, but I don't want to grow up like this.
When the teacher asked the next question, I raised my hand without hesitation. I firmly believe: I can! Not bad now! One, two, three ... The students gradually raised their hands. Since then, our classroom has returned to its old atmosphere.
As soon as I got home, I plunged into the sea of books. -My family's library. There are so many books here, all of which are novels, celebrity short stories and historical scrolls.
However, in a few minutes, I was "kicked out" Who is that man? It's my mother. She always treats me as a document and does her homework. These two things, in my opinion, are Woodenhead without feelings and historical flavor. I went to consult the master, and his tricks were varied, and I didn't like them either, because I used all the "famous teachers make excellent students", but I still couldn't escape my mother's "Wuzhishan", so I went to find my brother.
I went to see my brother Xiao Shu again. He told me that a good way is to use the time to read books in the toilet, which makes me puzzled. When he said the method, I deliberately said that going to the toilet is actually reading in the toilet. I thought it would work, so I started my own plan and put the book in the cupboard next to the toilet downstairs. Finish it! Ha ha! I can read again.
I asked my cousin to help me send the book through the window, that's all. The first time I watched "King Kong of Fire", the second time I watched "The Storm of Warning", and the third time ... I went to dozens of times in a row. My mother became suspicious and asked me what happened.
I said I had diarrhea. I started reading again, but someone slipped and I fell in love with reading. My hand was released, and I fell to the ground, soaked to the skin. I am in a hurry. Unfortunately, good books are wet, and I can't read them in recent days, for fear that my mother will find out. I put the book on the windowsill to dry, and forgot to collect it when I watched the series at night. I went the next morning and found my mother waiting for me with the book.
The consequences were unexpected. She actually agreed to let me read, but only if I finished all my homework. I have to read the composition book for half an hour after class, and I don't spend much time reading books in one day.
I have forgotten why I recited Su Shi's poems, but I only felt the poet's deep spring sorrow. Perhaps, a person standing under a pear tree will be indifferent to spring and feel sad silently, but it is empty. I really want to cry now, and hold fast to the hurried time.
I am growing up quickly, and time is rushing forward. My unbridled time has long passed, but time is so cruel that he didn't even leave me the purest dream when I was a child. So I learned to face time in a hurry and sigh silently. ...
Time is cruel, after all, nothing can be left, just like when I beg for spring, I can't stay after all, and my begging is still a hurried summer; Time is really cruel, after all, nothing can be left, just like when I imagined that I would not grow up, it was just a delusion after all, and all I got was helpless to continue to grow up; Time is cruel. After all, nothing can be left. It's like I'm looking forward to keeping the most beautiful dream forever. After all, it's just an expectation. Now, even in my dream, I can't find any fragments of the old dream ... Time, he ruthlessly carved the traces he walked on people, but he won't let anyone leave him. He is really selfish. We are really helpless.
Pear blossoms are like the loneliest smile in spring. Even if you struggle in the air, even if you beg for time, you cannot be left behind. However, the last sad beauty of this tired life may also be her most beautiful moment. Her life has interpreted beauty with life, and maybe there is no regret.
Pear flowers continue to fall sadly, picking up a fragrant pear flower and sighing the beauty of the past. Don't forget, it is late spring and early summer; Don't forget, since you don't want to regret it too much, please cherish it like that pear flower …