Urgent! Urgent! Urgent! Urgent! Ask for an essay on Writing to Yourself in 2050 800 words

At that time, I was already a 42-year-old middle-aged man, half of my life was over, I was married, had children, started a family, and lived a good life, there would be no lack of food...

I can be a meteor, shuttling through this vast sky, such a lively world, really surprised me, I have received a lot of beautiful and happy wishes, but on my face, there is not the slightest smile, human beings, is selfish. A girl caught my eye, she was wearing two pigtails, she was happy, but also lively and innocent. There was an old man beside her, who looked old, but with a kind smile on his face, and the girl said happily

Grandmother? She stared blankly at the passing meteor, and she was amazed. "Yes, yes.

The girl's eyes immediately became bright, "Then, Meteor, I hope that Grandma's illness can be cured soon." The girl's eyes were full of anticipation. "Silly boy......The old man smiled, but with tears in his eyes.

The old man murmured, "Meteor, I hope that my granddaughter will send me away with a smile and be happy every day." "Grandma, what did you say? "Nothing.

I was stunned, and I was a little distracted in an instant, I can only fulfill one person's wish, the little girl's wish, the old man's wish, I, who should I help? The sound of the ambulance suddenly remembered in my ears, and I came back to my senses. My firm belief drives me to save the old man, but if I use my life to save people, then I, who have cultivated for thousands of years to be reincarnated as a meteor, will no longer exist, is it worth it?

I was at a loss. Seeing the sad eyes of the little girl, I, I must save the old man! I shot into the old man's body at the speed of light, and then, my consciousness slowly faded away, and a voice said, "Thank you, Meteor......I smiled.

I, tell myself. I'm a meteor and I can!

Time is simply a measure of the length of life.

Inscription. In early summer, autumn and winter, the four seasons change, the vicissitudes of life, and the stars change. For everyone, time will not last forever because of prayers and sighs, nor will it pass away because of inaction. It will only shuttle through this world of sampa at the speed it should have.

Through the birth, aging, and death of life, we can fully feel the transience of Shaoguang.

Late autumn has passed, and winter is coming. At night, after a storm, in the early morning, the leaves are all over the ground. I can't help but wonder: where did this leaf come from? What has it been through in its life? Will it go to ** again?

Now, in any case, it is dead, and as a living being, it has exhausted the time it has been given. Perhaps, for us, the life of the leaves is just photosynthesis. And yet what a great thing it is!

Through the tiny but delicate structures in its body, a leaf creates the myth of life – producing oxygen and nutrients that enable the earth to support all living beings. When it dies, it rots in the soil and returns its body to the plant, completing the cycle of its life. Thus, a leaf achieved its success in its short time.

So, why did I come into this world? How much time will God give me? My existence will be.

What's the point? I thought, if I'm wandering aimlessly through the river of time, cynical and idle, then why bother? I suppose my time is longer than a leaf anyway, and if the leaf is not doing nothing, how can I waste this hard-won life?

A leaf may have a short lifespan, but it can still burst into dazzling light. I picked up a yellow leaf that had just fallen, looked at the delicate design of the veins, and stroked the green and faded flesh, and I thought that the life of this leaf might be nobler than mine, because it had fulfilled the task given to it by life with a clear conscience, and it was worthy of God's gift of time.

Then I had an epiphany that time is just a measure of the length of life, but the quality of life lies in how we use it.

I buried the yellow leaf in the soil with my own hands to show my respect for it. I seem to have a heart-to-heart communion with it, and it seems to be the earnest teachings of an old man who has crossed the centuries.

Although I don't know how much time I have, at least I know that I still have time, at least I want to make every minute and every second of my present realize its due value, and seize the present time to shape my soul with knowledge and morality. Even when my time is coming to an end, I look back and don't regret that I didn't do anything and wasted my time. In this way, I also have the meaning of going through this experience.

"How do I meet you?In your reproachful eyes. Do you still have the strength?Through the lonely four seasons, wait for the snow to clear together. ”

In 2012, you may be in heaven listening to a song written for you by a young man in white. In your reproachful eyes, we see your questioning of the indifferent soul;In your reproachful eyes, we see angels disappear into the clouds;In your reproachful eyes, we see the moral undead trembling. "If I can meet you, in my heart I have cried.

Will you agree to forgive your blind heart and find faith together. You won't agree, the eyes of resentment pale in heaven;You won't agree that blind souls appear exhausted in the darkYou won't agree that the indifferent expression is so many sorry words after the pain!You will seek to believe that you have no strength;You won't believe that the road to heaven you wrote and forgot.

You shy away with the purest laugh. "Sometimes, the world is not enthusiastic enough, and the angels will be uncomfortable in the clouds." Sometimes, the soul is forgotten on the street of selfishness;There are times when the soul lingers in the presence of interests;Sometimes, the soul trembles before the facts.

The world is not enthusiastic enough, you should not turn back, tremble weakly, wait tiredly;The world is not enthusiastic enough, passers-by are hurrying away, and the soul is still wandering. I forgot how to wait, how to plead!"The long road of life, no one teaches you to walk, panicked children, can't find an exit".

The road that belongs to you is very long, don't be nostalgic for the cloves in front of the grave;The road that belongs to you is very long, don't wait to bloom;The road that belongs to you is long, don't forget your dreams. No one teaches you to walk, but the soul is looking back;No one taught you to walk, and your soul was lost in the street. "Clenched fists, how long have you been scared?

Crying red eyes, purifying the universe". Your parents at your bedside are starting to worry about you;**The newspaper is starting to stand out for you;The audience's moist eyes are trembling;The doctor is making a final touch. How long have you been scared, looking at the street, and no one is staying?

How long have you been scared, clenched fists, you have endured for a long time. Red eyes, you want to cleanse the universe. Please walk slowly, the souls of passers-by are still here!

The long road of life, let me take you away; The lights of home, accompanied by the tenderness of the birds". On the long road of life, we have taken the wrong road. In the long road of life, we should follow the soul.

The lights of home, you are still staying, your most innocent smile is still trembling, and your most innocent childhood is still uncomfortable in the clouds. Maybe you want to tell us: go slowly, wait for your soul.