曾经很喜欢老狼的《同桌的你》,他轻弹吉他悠悠地唱:“那时候天总是很蓝。日子总过得太慢……”那些十五六岁的时光,是天上飘忽不定的云。是久盼不至的下课铃,这么慢这么慢啊,研磨着一颗急不可耐的心。是从什么时候起,所有的日子都加了速?一时,一天,一月,一年……日子就像离弦的箭,在欢言调笑的笑颜中, Once I really liked Wolves’ “You at the same table,” he played the guitar lightly: “The time is always blue. The days are always too slow...” Those fifteen or six years old is heaven. Unpredictable clouds. It is a long-awaited bell, so slow and so slow, grinds an impatient heart. Since when did all the days have been accelerated? The moment, the day, the month, the year, and the day are like arrows that are off the string, and they are smiling and laughing.