曾经走过的年华,一大堆美好或疼痛的记忆,都埋在我这脑袋瓜里,当夜深人静的时候,一齐向我涌来。我真想说,其实我也是一个有故事的人。校园东侧,那里曾经是我们的乐土。每每还没进多媒体教室,音乐老师总会弄出些类似“素胚勾勒出青花笔锋浓转淡”的音乐,惹得我们像一群快乐的小燕子,一个劲地往里冲。我的视线,穿过新修好的防盗窗,混沌 Once upon a time of love, a lot of beautiful or painful memories, are buried in my head Guarui, when the dead of night, came to me together. I really want to say, in fact, I am also a story person. On the east side of the campus, there used to be our paradise. Often not yet into the multimedia classroom, the music teacher always come up with something similar to “prime sketches out of the blue and white faded” music, prompting us like a group of happy little swallow, kept going inside. My sight, through the newly built security window, chaos