Walking on the road of sixteen, I began to look up to eighteen.
Looking up, it's 500 days away-I 18 years old. In these 500 days, there is no world, no life, no color, and everything is blank, because all this has not happened yet, so I will walk slowly. In 500 days, I will start a new life with adult feelings, adult smiles and tears, and now, it is still blank. So, I began to look up at the clean blue sky and look for my eighteen years old behind the white clouds.
Looking up at me at eighteen, I found me at eighteen. I don't laugh so recklessly as I do now, which makes the flowers downstairs feel shy. I began to learn to hide my smile in my heart. Just like the fifth battery in the jukebox, I will release my happiness evenly from my heart. A smile that lasts for five seconds will last for five hours, making others look like my life is full of sunshine. Similarly, I won't let tears scratch my face again. I will really understand the sentence that my mother often tells me, "Men don't flick when they have tears", but I may secretly wipe my tears when no one is around, making others think that I am as strong as God.
I began to pick up the pen and calculate how many times the second hand would turn on the dial in these 500 days. With longing and piety, I continue to look up to 18 years old.
Look up at me at the age of eighteen and imagine my struggle. At that time, I may have entered the university campus, where I will continue to study hard and continue to struggle with the words that have inspired me. "As a person, you have to work hard and struggle." The teacher once told me so, and I once told myself so. Whoever doesn't work hard won't have gorgeous flowers in his life. In pursuit of flower of life, I am constantly busy, leaving my energetic figure everywhere in the classroom and library.
Looking up at me at the age of eighteen, I thought of my parents. By then, 500 days later, my father's rickety back will be more curved, and my mother's head will have more white hair. At this time, I want to stop looking up. I can't wait for the years to solidify at this moment, so that my father's back will no longer bend and my mother's white hair will no longer fall. But I can't. I can only continue to imagine, looking up to my parents to see my bright and happy future.
Looking up at 18 years old, I think of my friends again. I will never forget my friend when I was 16 years old. Our friendship will be like jar wine, and it will not become tasteless because of the' volatilization' of alcohol, but will only become more mellow because of Chen Fang's years. I will also make more new friends, who will know me very well and lend me a helping hand and send encouragement when I need help most. Both new friends and old friends will help me paint the four seasons of 18 years old colorful.
Rub your sore neck and think about being eighteen. ...
At the age of eighteen, I will definitely look up at the blue sky in a leisurely afternoon, as I do now, and recall the sixteen years old I looked up at at the age of eighteen. At that time, I will feel particularly warm and moved. Perhaps, I will continue to look up to the colorful 20-year-old and weave a new life in advance.
Looking up at the age of eighteen, thinking about 500 days of eighteen. 500 days, short enough to be washed away from the fingers carelessly, and long enough to turn the second hand 720 thousand times. All I know is that I won't waste these 500 days. I will make my life grow thick green leaves before flowering.
Looking up to eighteen, when I was sixteen.