[Five Essays on the Year] We Walk On The Road January 22, 2012
I still remember last year when five of us were sitting in different corners of the classroom, heads buried in a pile of test papers writing down those naive aspirations. I still remember the last day we left the classroom before the college entrance exam, when we almost reluctantly and happily signed for each other and took photos; I will never forget all the warmth you gave me that winter and the gloom you helped dispel for me, I will never forget the trips to faraway places and the innocent thoughts we once talked about. The past is not unbearable to look back on, and the memories we have kept are not always beautiful, but we will remember, and will always remember walking together through the ups and downs in our youth. In the blink of an eye, I can no longer catch the tail of the Year of the Rabbit, or even touch the long ears of the rabbit. Time is like a sharp razor speeding along the walls in a dark tunnel that will eventually lead to the light, we can only vaguely hear the sound coming from deep underground, but we do not know where it has gone. In this almost unsolvable world, most things related or unrelated to us remain beyond our control, but we still hold hope, and still have the ability to joke about and mock the end of the world in 2012.
Six months ago, the five of us went our separate ways, most leaving this small city. Some went south, stayed in Shanxi province, or went to another county for tutoring. Perhaps these were choices made without choice, but regardless, we chose to accept, we chose to leave or stay. And what remained unchanged was that we all chose to bid farewell to a former self, and embarked on new journeys.
So, there's no need for more words, I think everything is already in the words below or in our own hearts;
Then, in 2012, we're already on the road; in 2012, we will still be together.
In 2012, let's move forward with love and hope.
Written by Xin Xin'er
About 2011.
This year-end reflection, I've been putting off, putting off. I don't know how to start, I don't know how to express my feelings. There's actually so much I want to say, but I don't know where to begin.
Today, while tidying up my room and sorting through everything that accompanied me during high school, I couldn't help but shed tears. I've always been afraid to touch those things, I didn't want to sell them cheaply, to have them thrown away as scrap at the recycling station. Sheet after sheet of math tests, filled with calculations and answers. Sheet after sheet of English newspapers, I can't even count how much time I spent completing them. Various notes, various review materials. Now only they can prove that my senior year really existed, that I had worked hard for my dreams.
In 2011, we were seniors.
We sat in that classroom on the fourth floor corner, attending class, studying independently, taking exams. Watching the countdown to the college entrance exam being written, erased, erased, rewritten. At the time, all we knew was that the college entrance exam was getting closer, and we had to work harder. We attended class together, studied independently together, crowded into the cafeteria together, sang out-of-tune songs between classes, and teased each other. Life was simple, though hard, but very happy, at least very fulfilling. Mr. Lao would always quietly walk into the classroom, smile contentedly at our efforts. And there were his occasional little tempers when we made mistakes. The blackboard at the back of the classroom was filled with our wishes, unrealistic as they may be, but places we deeply desired. I miss those days.
The grass on the playground. The playground became the only place for us to relax. We sat close together on the grass chatting, talking about our ideals, the university life we looked forward to, and our hopes for the future. We walked circle after circle along the track listening to music, lay on the grass looking at the long-missed sun, and the days playing cards behind the concrete stands accompanied my entire senior year. I miss those days.
On graduation day, the sun was shining brightly. I posed in all sorts of silly poses on the playground, wanting to take pictures with everyone, fearing that one day I would forget what you all looked like. The classroom was a mess, yet we were incredibly happy. Perhaps at that time, we didn't know, nor could we imagine, what the college entrance exam meant for us. But I still clearly remember your smiling faces on graduation day. I miss those days.
Then came the college entrance exam, the most important event of our eighteen years. We placed all our hopes on the college entrance exam, only to realize that after experiencing it, we had grown up.
Estimating scores, filling out applications. A muddled summer, then parting.
In 2011, university.
I've forgotten the mood I was in when I first came to Zhuhai, to university. I only remember the first month, filled with nothing but longing. I began to go crazy missing everyone, dreaming over and over again about us studying together in that corner classroom. I began to regret leaving home so far, I began to understand who and what mattered to me. I tried living alone, solving problems on my own, facing this strange city and strange people.
I started getting used to food that didn't suit my taste, abnormal weather, and so-called university life. But I still missed those faraway people, longed for those faraway people. I feared distance would dilute us, I feared one day we'd meet and have nothing to say but hello, I feared losing that purest, truest emotion.
On the last day of 2011, I was reviewing in the library, no longer accompanied by you all.
Sometimes sitting in the classroom, I would recall the days we spent together in class. Walking around campus, seeing the bustling crowds, I couldn't help but search for familiar figures. Napping in the library, waking up, I always felt you were still by my side, never having left.
Reading your warm messages, I knew I was never alone.
Distance hasn't separated us, it's brought us closer.
Knowing you're always with me is enough.
Thus ended 2011. Last year, none of us could have imagined how much would happen this year. Harsh realities, unfamiliar cities. Some things we can't change, we can only try to accept, and grow.
In 2012, remember I'm always here.
In 2012, remember there's someone far away hoping you're happy.
In 2012, remember to move forward with love and hope.
In 2012, may we all be well.
Some disorganized words.
Written by Jiao Jiao
Life in this world, time is too short, accumulating countless past events and memories.
That year, we watched the countdown together, welcoming our 2011. Now, facing the arrival of 2012, I can no longer feel the way I did then. At this moment, I don't know what to mourn, or what to look forward to.
2011 was a year of farewells. Yes, there's no banquet that doesn't eventually disperse. After graduation, friends scattered to all directions. Many attachments and reluctances ultimately left behind only a few photographs. However, there's a saying: Distance creates beauty. In the monotonous tutoring life, thinking about friends far away at the edge of the sky and sea brings a sense of beauty. Although time has widened the gap, I believe we won't let this friendship be sealed by history, because there are stories of our unforgettable youth.
Tutoring life has passed half a year. This half a year, I don't even know how I got through it. Getting used to the comfortable life at home, a life where even meals need to be fought for, for me, besides being unaccustomed, is still unaccustomed. Perhaps, only by leaving home does a person truly grow up. In this half a year, I feel I've grown a lot, learning to understand, learning to empathize, learning to take care of myself, dealing with issues on my own instead of relying on my parents. Fortunately, he has always been by my side...
In 2012, this is a new beginning for me. From now on, I will work harder than before, making my future no longer uncertain but within my control. Choosing this path of tutoring is just to avoid regretting.
Let the wind carry my blessings to my dear friends. May those I love and who love me be well in the new year!
Finally, wishing everyone a Happy New Year!
Simplicity and warmth, hardship and resilience, written for my 2011.
Written by Xiao Xiao
Before typing these words on my computer, my thoughts were chaotic. I didn't know what title to use for this year-end reflection, didn't know what words to use to describe my 2011.
For me, this year was a long period of time. I always felt that the first half and the second half of the year were lived in two different worlds, with different moods, different goals, and completely different lives. Thinking back now on those days in senior year, it always feels like it was such a long time ago. Back then, I didn't have to think about anything, I just needed to work hard towards a set goal. Half a year's time was enough to completely overturn my originally simple and peaceful life, my simple and humble dreams.
I remember the days leading up to the college entrance exam, the repetitive daily routine, endless notes to write, endless problems to solve, seemingly never-ending exams. There was almost no time for entertainment, nodding off in class, too exhausted to move after class. So, during the midday study session, I often chatted with Tu'er, and during the afternoon activity class, our group would often gather and talk about all sorts of amusing things, discussing our dreams and aspirations, singing out-of-tune songs. During dinner, Xin Xinwen and I would rush out of the classroom to grab seats in the cafeteria, returning to the classroom under the guise of studying to continue chatting. After the third evening class, we would play a song on Yan Le's celebrity player, leisurely packing up our things, slowly strolling home. Day after day.
I remember before the final exams, the school arranged for us to do practice exams from the four-school joint exams. While others had holidays, we were required to stay and take the exams. Boldly, we openly resisted with our homeroom teacher, shedding tears and explaining our stress.
Those days were really tiring, bitter, sometimes even boring. But, they were simple, full, and warm. That feeling, after finishing high school, in these six months, I haven't experienced again. I could laugh wildly, laugh freely, express all my emotions without restraint. Because I knew many people could understand my wildness, my laughter, my release. Going home, there would be warm lights, delicious dishes made by dad, their relentless concern. For a while, I was always suffering from insomnia, waking up dad at two in the morning, asking him to sleep in my room so I could sleep with mom. Thus, disrupting my parents' good night's sleep time and time again. Looking back now, I realize how foolish and naive I was then, knowing nothing. I didn't understand that dad needed rest after a whole day of work at school, I didn't understand that mom's health couldn't withstand my repeated disturbances. I always thought I was about to take the college entrance exam, that I was the center of the family. Now, thinking back, I always regret my actions then, even though I know everything can't be undone.
Ultimately, I didn't make it to the place I wanted to go. To ensure safety, I applied to schools with strong liberal arts programs but unexpectedly high scores. I just wanted to go to Beijing, a place I had dreamed of for so many years, but reality didn't go as I wished. I stayed in Taiyuan. The place I am now, my Cai Da. I remember when the Class A admission scores were announced, Xin Xin called me and I cried, a feeling of a dream shattered, because I had strived for it, unwilling to let go.
Nowadays, scenes like these constantly float in my mind, one after another. Though I know this has become a memory, everything isn't the same as it was back then.
Dad's departure overturned our family's previously peaceful and happy life. Once, I knew how many people envied our family, successful careers and harmonious happiness. But in an instant, we fell from heaven into the abyss of pain. Even now, at certain times, I can't believe this is reality, always thinking it's just a dream or that Dad has gone to a distant place and will return soon. Sometimes, I wake up startled in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, then insomnia sets in. It's almost been half a year since Dad left, and I still count the days since Dad left, fantasizing about changes with the passage of time. Maybe the mindset is indeed different. Now, I don't cry all the time, slowly learning to accept. But I think about this person I love the most, the person who loves me the most, every moment.
Half a year at Cai Da has been a transformation for me. Having never left home, I not only face many things I've never encountered, but also bear all the sorrow brought by Dad's departure. Sometimes, I feel like I'm going crazy, unable to handle it, inexplicably not wanting to do anything, inexplicably feeling bad, inexplicably not wanting to talk. I keep a small photo of Dad in my wallet, taking it out to look at whenever I'm alone, crying as I look. The young me who refused to fall behind anyone here now just wants to be an ordinary person, seemingly having lost the sharpness and dreams I once promised myself. In these six months, I've met many people, encountered many happy and unpleasant things, learned a lot. In these six months, the knowledge I've gained isn't as much as what I learned in a month of high school, mostly cramming right before exams. What I've learned might just be about life. Learning to be resilient, learning to give myself warmth, giving warmth to those around me, learning to be considerate and caring. I love you all back home, and every time I pick up your calls from afar or receive your text messages, my heart is warmly satisfied, always thinking that even if everything in the world changes, through thousands of transformations, I still have you. I love meeting you all at Cai Da, the beautiful scenery in my life. Let me, outside of grief, also experience pure happiness, joy, and satisfaction. Before meeting you all, I once thought that in the days ahead, I would never laugh as happily again, never feel the warm happiness of home again.
Looking back at the year-end reflections I wrote at the end of 2010, there were so many aspirations and hopes. But a year later, most of those aspirations have been shattered, the feeling of things remaining the same but people changing adds a weight to my still immature shoulders. I've forgotten the flowery language I used to write articles with. The words written this year are plain, but true. Sometimes I wonder if all the things I prayed for last year made God think I was greedy, hence punishing me by shattering my love and dreams. In 2012, my only wish is that the people I love, air filter www.020jsfilter.com, are fine, just fine is enough. God, I won't be greedy anymore, I'll never be.
I think I must become strong and excellent enough to not always be stuck in the quagmire of memories, recalling what I once possessed under Dad's protection, infinite pride, and glory.
Never forget the person you promised to become, never forget the place you promised to go, never forget the promises you made to yourself initially.
In 2012, be resilient, be warm, be content, be full, learn to face difficulties head-on, learn to adapt to whatever comes your way.
Dear ones, Happy Chinese New Year, in 2012, we will always be together.
Growing up means being lonelier
Written by Tu'er
Walking along the dusty road, suddenly realizing I'm approaching my twenties, and this "two" will last for ten years. What will happen in these ten years? I don't want to think too much or plan too much. Because often wishes one by one come to naught, ending up spreading boundless pain.
Clouds and dogs. Another year has passed. The year-end reflections we wrote last year are still there. This year, many things have happened, and I want to record them all with long paragraphs of text, but I don't want to touch those memories. Of course, there is love, but there is also pain, I prefer to empty myself. I won't explain, you all understand.
A twenty-year-old big kid, it's time to grow up. On the journey of life, you can tear down all the roads, but only the road of growth must be experienced. 2011, a year that will never be forgotten, I've experienced a lot, understood a lot, and grown a lot. In the days to come, I will face everything with a more mature attitude.
The older you get, the lonelier you feel, and the more you fear loneliness. Therefore, sometimes I immerse myself in cyberspace, accompanying everyone who has gone their separate ways with different moods. Sharing in your joys, sharing in your sorrows, always feeling like you're still by my side. Hey, I love all of you, and you all understand. In 2012, it's another new beginning. Still that sentence: I will embrace love and courage and firmly walk towards the future, without confusion, without panic, without hesitation.
May the present be stable, hoping all remains warm as before. Hoping everyone is well and happy. Wishing everyone a Happy Chinese New Year in advance!
Like a dream of freedom, like the sky of strength, like the earth of tolerance
Written by Shi Jueming (Xiaomei)
At home, enjoying a peaceful life, I find myself lazier and more slack than usual. Though I have many feelings to express and viewpoints to share, I still don't want to pick up the pen lying on the table or open a blank Word document. Thus, I've delayed this article that should have been finished long ago until now, until I feel that if I don't write today, I will never write.
Getting back to the point.
About my hometown.
Suddenly, I feel I should be incredibly grateful and comforted. Seeing news reports of people who cannot return home, I imagine their swollen and hopeless bodies squeezed in carriages, their eyes dull and almost colorless from fatigue and anxiety. I imagine them staying in cold, lifeless dormitories or at their posts, and I feel a great sadness and helplessness spreading across countless railways and highways, eventually returning via the depths of the earth to their long-cherished hometowns, seeping into the hearts of every parent and child waiting for them at home. A subtle ache, yet powerless to change anything. I've never truly experienced the horror of the Spring Festival travel rush, but I know that on this vast and complex land, it will always remain an unsolvable problem. Our country can easily send them back to their counties and villages in times of need, but cannot bring its citizens home to reunite with their families during the biggest festival. I don't know if the nation feels embarrassed about this, but as a sensible and obedient citizen, when I occasionally think about those who merely want to return home safely and promptly, I feel somewhat ashamed and disgraced for our country. May those still on the road arrive safely and quickly embrace all that is familiar and peaceful.
I don't know how long I can still live in this small city and this small room in the future, and I don't want to think about it.
At least for the foreseeable future, I can still navigate this small city with ease or trepidation. I think this is enough for me. I will cherish the time I spend with it, just as I now cherish this pen in my hand.
About family.
I rarely mention those who gave me life and have accompanied my growth. Because I am clearer than anyone else that even when the world leaves me, abandons me, they will still be by my side. Unyielding, inseparable.
But as we waste our youth striving for the future, they inevitably age.
In the six months before I went away to study, grandpa could still converse with me relatively easily and still had the energy to sit at his desk copying excerpts from newspapers he liked. Although he already showed signs of aging and weariness with life, he could still face surrounding matters calmly, which reassured the family greatly. Perhaps because six months is too long and slow for an eighty-year-old nearing the end of his life, when I returned for vacation and saw him, it suddenly felt as if several more years of aging marks and countless scars had been etched onto grandpa. The previous year, his right eye was declared dead due to glaucoma, resembling a greenish-blue glass ball strangely embedded in grandpa's eye socket, jarring and eerie. His weak left eye also appeared permanently closed due to being squinted for long periods. Sometimes I try to imagine what the world looks like through grandpa's eyes. Perhaps it's blurry and colorful, I naively think.
Grandpa loved sweets and meat, with a good appetite. After entering old age, we continued to indulge his preferences. What we call enjoying old age is simply eating well, drinking well, and sleeping well. If so, how could we possibly dissuade grandpa when he wanted to eat? But unsurprisingly, diabetes and high blood lipids were detected last year in the hospital. Afterwards, we thought he would consider his health and start eating healthier, but contrary to expectations. Perhaps long-standing habits are hard