Broadcast anchor exam essay essay, 1000 words.

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In the passing years, who gave me a scene of smoke".

Those passing years, those madness, and those sorrows, at a certain crossroads, have long since settled.

Inscription. When I think of it, there are thousands of rivers and mountains; A thought is extinguished, and the vicissitudes of life.

Suddenly, I wanted to pick up the vicissitudes left over the years.

It was a long time ago when I waited with great anticipation, and in the light of the falling lights at dusk, the nightmare of youth was dispersed; Passing years, on the whitish paper, the light ink is thick. It's just that reality can't be observed, just like the thoughts that are difficult to calm when you toss and turn.

I looked at the smiling faces on the **, the background was the sycamore entwined with dead wood, and the yellowed leaves were scattered into mud. Life, it turns out that it can't stand the time, just like you wave your hand to make other scenes, the heartache is hidden from time to time, but it can't withstand the dark passing of the time; Suddenly, after turning around, it was a sunny day again.

The picture immersed in memories is the most precious memory that Autumn left me. Those old people who have been thinking about it for a long time, how are they doing now, are they still like the **, with a permanent smile?

I'm still the same, listening to those sad tunes in my spare time, writing down the bits and pieces of time projecting on me.

The years make people, and in the blink of an eye, we are no longer young, and the bleak years seem to be a deep irony of those quiet and happy times.

The old people who haven't seen each other for a few years, I don't know when, we can talk again, drink and talk, and talk at night.

In this life, I have been wrong many times, and I don't want to be wrong again. I don't have a time machine, I can't go back to the past, complete all those regrets, and those hesitations. All I have is the present and the memories of that hard tune.

I'm still so nostalgic, nostalgic at the same time, but it is difficult to suppress the heart that refuses to forget.

Always remembering every time the night falls, struggling, unbearable but more uneasy, the memories are too heavy, and the reality is too far away.

I still remember the pale promises I made to myself when I was young and frivolous, and now, the world is divided, what about the residual flowers, and what about the butterflies, they are not just phantoms left by time. After turning around, who still remembers those oaths that were cold and frozen, and the road was far away.

Xi Murong Shiyun "walked and scattered, and the memories faded", in the end, only his lonely back remained, and even those memories were slowly forgotten.

Who was lonely and prosperous, buried the end of the world, and scattered all the armor.

How can you get back the years that have passed? The smile you used to have bloomed into an eternal white lotus in your memories, you can no longer pick it up, you can't pick it off, you can only bury it with the petals that fell from your youth, from the beginning to the present.

Life, just like coffee, no matter how much sugar is put in, there will still be a faint bitter taste.

Some people say that memory is a bridge, but it is a prison that leads to loneliness. And I have been in this prison for too long, and for a long time the years have become entangled into huge cobwebs, trapping my past and my future.

If life is only as first seen, what is the autumn wind and sad fan.

Waiting for idle changes but old people's hearts, but old people's hearts are changeable.

Lishan said that it was half a night away, and the tears and rain were not dry.

How is Bo Xing Jinyilang, who wishes on the same day.

Li Hanrong's "Turning Around" reads with a sense of historical vicissitudes, which will make people feel inexplicably regretful, a sense of helplessness that the sun is rushing southwest and the situation is unattainable.

Lung Yingtai's "Back".