It is said that one can only develop one to two percent of one‘s brain in one’s lifetime. Every time I thought of this law, I would convulse in despair, slowly raise my head, bite my lip, and continue to squeeze the pen in my hand.
So I can‘t get rid of my ridiculous tragedy?
From childhood to adulthood, I have been demanding that I greet the future with the most proud attitude. The exterior is an ugly but quiet girl who does not eat people, but the heart is actually full of jealousy and copper stink. Happy memories shaking countless high thumbs up, any small mistake like a child lost candy as depressed and frustrated. Sleeping peacefully is not because of the stars in the sky, but the countless red pentacle on the book. From the dream dreaming from the long contempt, also is not because of the dream of the monster, but to see their own bright red as blood cruel examination paper.
All the people and things around me are also arranged due to the sad and happy. My family will hold me because of a report card flying in the air, proud spin, like a dream butterfly out of the cocoon; When I failed the test, I put down the chopsticks vigorously, just to express my disappointment and frustration. Even friends who travel with her make excuses not to go with her. This world is not dizzy, just I, fell, failed, decadent.
The impression of their own name, will be strong on the honor roll. I can’t find the trace of her disappearance. Like one secret after another in the summer, time evaporated the general quiet, so that I tore heart crack lung to pain. Others have run to the distance, but I back a thousand feet.
Now, used to kill people with the envy of the eyes to respect others, in front of their line of people, can only read one, sigh one. He sighed that he was old and toothless, huh? Isn‘t it over yet? Oh! It’s not over yet.
I have been trying, stupid, trying to wait day by day the old and new alternate, trying to express their unsuccessful sorrow. What is the examination paper like, I am a sand gull. Strive to continue to create a heroic opening for themselves, in the life of this stage squandered every opportunity to appear. Trying to forget bad memories, bad grades, punishing your perfect self, hard to breathe. With all his might, he grasped the throat of fate, suffocating in the cycle of fate. I kept searching for death and when I returned for the umpteenth time, I fell into a black hole of despair.
All the footprints, can not find, all the mood, can not smell. Only salt of tears and blood.
I just want to make my future in this talented age. Just want to dig out the fate of the loess by both hands, for parents out of the harvest of eternal life; Just want to rely on their own shoulders to achieve a responsibility; I just want to be the perfect me in my heart to comfort the real negative and sensitive me. I just want to use one percent of my potential to achieve 100 percent of my life.
Isn‘t one percent enough?
I said too many words full of hope, showed too many make public smile, did too much for the dream persistent and deviated from the usual way of things, in fact, my perfect is very simple, simple to the deep pessimism will be fused into a more firm faith:
Use one percent of my potential to write only one percent of a beautiful poem, and live one percent of a perfect day.