Give up, not a derogatory term

It's autumn again, bringing endless bleakness.

In front of my desk, near the window, which is slightly open, a cool breeze comes gently and evaporates the cold sweat on my body.

It was late in the evening, yet I was still sitting, writing the endless homework. I frowned tightly, and the second joint of my right middle finger was a little tingly and sore from writing for so long. I put the pen down and rubbed it gently.

What appeared in front of me was a completely blank sheet of questions. The questions were just a few lines long, but they were no less difficult than the finale questions. I looked up at the ceiling in despair, blank, and like my brain, surprisingly like white paper. The hour hand drove the second hand in a spinning circular motion. It should be 11 o'clock now, and the cicadas are in dreamland.

However, now I still have to straighten my body to keep my brain awake and go to transport efficiently, but the heavy drowsiness will take it away. What I got in return was just sore eyes and a fine sweat on my forehead.

"Give up!" I muttered in my mind, but then another voice came up: "This is your homework, you must finish it." So I listened to the latter one, clenched my pencil, clenched my fist, grabbed the time, and started to write. But sleepiness came to me so often that I had to force my eyes wide open.

The soughing autumn wind blew up and brought over a yellowed leaf, like an old man, without color. It just did, slowly dropping down to my window, lying quietly on my windowsill, letting the breeze come and blow. Why didn't it persist? I looked up at the old tree in front of me again, so old. I had a look at the leaf, the last of me, and realized the significance of the leaf falling.

Once it grew on the tree, absorbed the water that the tree absorbed from the soil and brought the water into the air, however, when the number was old, the leaf could not be a burden to the tree, so it fell. Its fall gives the tree a chance to be reborn, and it will have a chance to be reborn itself.

I should not focus only on those difficult questions, I should give the certainty of the topic to get the score. In this way, it seems that giving up is also for a good start.

Some give up for a more worthy tomorrow.

Youth - sadness

Youth, is sad, in between youth, as if only black and white. It seems so lonely and monotonous.

Occasionally, I feel very tired and have the feeling that I can't hold on. Sometimes, I would like to have a place where I can cry out loud, and cry out the unhappiness in my heart, I am tired. The time has gone in a hurry, people are gradually leaving my world, leaving me alone wandering in this black and white world.

Those who had nearly passed by, leaving only a hurried footprint, not letting me have a chance to catch them and let them stay. Sometimes, it feels like I am crying, and I can't talk about what's on my mind. When helpless, no one is by my side. My youth is like black and white paper, with no other colors, it seems so helpless and sad.

Sometimes, black and white is an indication of loneliness. Sometimes, I will suddenly be afraid of loneliness, so that only a voice and shadow crouching in my black and white world, the back - so bleak. That person is - me.

My world has no one to enter, a long time ago, I blocked it. I learned to bear everything by myself, no one cares about me, and I don't care, because I don't need the care from their mouths.

I can't stop the tears; my heart seems to be dripping with blood; my dreams, no fantasy because they are all black and white. I am not in the innocence, young dreams face broken, I am not in the fantasy.

Who said that the ending in the fairy tale is all good? If so, then why did the colorful, gorgeous world I once had to go? I'm afraid to be alone, then I'll be imagining things.

Dreams fly, and the girl will one day let go of all the unhappiness to leave. The girl will shut herself in the black and white world, and no matter what will not go out. Outside those colors do not belong to the girl. The girl likes black and white because she endured the world's ruthlessness, helplessness, and loneliness. My world does not allow anyone to walk around in it and then cruelly leave, leaving only a footprint. The girl's world is for herself to live in, not for you to play with.

Youth, rendered sentimental, like the black and white keys on the piano, playing is always that monotonous pentameter. The most important thing is that you don't have to accept the color, but to taste the "good" of black and white. Because in my most lonely, helpless when my world was only black and white with me.