That diary is full of memories. 800-word composition (selected 8 articles)

In daily life or work and study, everyone must come into contact with composition. Composition is composed of words. Composition, a literary style that expresses the meaning of a theme through linguistic organization after human thought consideration. So how to write a good composition? The following is an 800-word composition (selected 8 articles) that I carefully compiled for the diary full of memories. It is for reference only. Let’s take a look.

That diary is full of memories. 800-word essay 1

A photo that has long faded brings me a little nostalgia. Your blurry faces are there. It will appear and disappear in my mind. That diary is so fragile that it can be wiped out by the wind. The writing on it has long been blurred, but it can push this memory to the top. It was lying there quietly, but my heart had already swallowed it up in my mind, and your tall and majestic posture and your increasingly clear face immediately emerged.

I moved a few days ago and sorted out everything. I thought about leaving nothing behind, but suddenly I thought of something. I stared at the ruins and immediately fell into searching. Finally, I found Grandpa Benben. This was the only thing I had left. Later, it was placed on my bookshelf. The yellowed and worn-out shell seemed incompatible with all of this, but it was the only thing I cherished.

When I have nothing to do, I look through my grandpa’s diary. Only then did I realize that the book, which was as thick as the Xinhua Dictionary, had gone through many vicissitudes of life and could not withstand any major movements. When I opened it gently, the yellowed pages seemed to be brittle and about to crack. Listening to the squeaking sound, It seems to be saying: Don't touch me, if you touch me again, I will die. Grandpa's delicate handwriting left the most beautiful impression in my heart, just like him.

Looking at it, I found a page with some blood on it, and then I realized that that day, the son of a wealthy family always bullied his classmates. My grandfather couldn't stand it anymore and beat the man. After a meal, unexpectedly, the family came to the door with others, and as expected, grandpa was beaten. But between the lines there was the dissatisfaction of my grandfather and the pleasure of revenge against a classmate. In my impression, he was always so gentle and never got angry. But later I learned that he also had a fierce side.

Then I found out that I was in the diary from the day I was born to the day my grandfather passed away. I just heard my grandma say that my grandpa liked me very much when I was a child. But I never knew that grandpa would like me so much. And I only remember that when I was a child, my grandfather always accompanied me to play, and he never forgot to bring me delicious food every time I went out. Later, grandpa got sick. Your grandma said that grandpa was very weak at that time, but he still carried me out to play. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but burst into tears. I know how little you have done to me, but how little you have done to him.

Returning to my hometown, I came to the place where my grandfather had lived all his life. The door curtain with carved patterns, the long and narrow corridors on both sides, and the smoke from the old house still rose... These all have a sense of nostalgia. Grandpa's aura and the diary also appeared here.

I closed the diary and remembered your old face vividly in my mind. I was speechless, only a feeling of nostalgia filled my heart. In that diary, only the memories remain. The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay Part 2

When I was cleaning up the room, I suddenly found an old pink notebook under the bed. This article introduces you to the content of "Memories from Diary". The old pink book looks very familiar, but I can't remember what it is.

I turned over the first page curiously. Ah, this is my old diary! I couldn't help but laugh suddenly. When I was a child, my handwriting was so ugly and crooked. What's written on it? I read it, it’s true! Isn't it just that I ate a bag of potato chips secretly? Sister, does she need to be so angry? Just don't eat it secretly next time. Fortunately, she is five years older than me. Forget it, I'll apologize to her later. Who told her to have princess disease... I smiled when I read this. When I was two or three years old, I was so greedy.

At this time, I found another yellow book. The book was not very old and very familiar. I held my chin and thought for a while. ah! This was written when I was in fourth or fifth grade. When I turned to the first page, my handwriting was much more elegant than when I was in first or second grade.

I started reading again, hum, the annoying boy called me a fat woman again! If I pretend not to care on the surface, you really think I don’t care! The best friend is also hateful, saying anything to make me lose weight! I'm not fat, why should I lose weight? However, should I also lose weight? It seems that I am really fatter than before. Well, from now on, I’ve decided to never eat meat again! Of course no snacks either! Must lose weight! Acne also appeared on my forehead. From now on, I must not forget to apply skin cream on my face every morning... Ha, it turns out that my love for beauty started at that time.

I looked under the bed again and found out that there was another green book that I had written when I was in sixth grade. Sure enough, I found it quickly. I turned it over and took a look, and the words on it were a bit sloppy. I wrote almost all about study, and only a few of them. I guess I had too much homework and no time to write, right? I sighed softly.

Holding my own mottled diary, I look back on the past and sigh, but after all, I can’t save the passage of time. But those past events are unforgettable to me. It turns out that I have experienced so many things, but I only discovered it now. Time flies really fast. Soon, I will be a junior high school student, and I have spent the last Children's Day full of laughter... Maybe, this is growth. The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay 3

"We have all grown up, and we have not learned to speak yet! We are all still young. But you are my spiritual support." - Inscription< /p>

We have all grown up, and we all still remember that when we were in that grade, our head teacher, Teacher Li, would always let us go back by ourselves. Maybe her expectations of us are too high. We always dare not accept her strange eyes. We always thought that Teacher Li would only let us say bad things about ourselves in front of our classmates, but we never said anything. , everyone is working hard.

None of us want to grow up, because when we grow up, we will never be able to speak for a day, but we all know that when we grow up, we have to say to ourselves: I am leaving you.

In our lives, how many times have our dreams been shattered, but we can never come back. We are all working hard towards our dreams, we are all struggling, we all do not want to be a failure, but we are all working hard towards our dreams, working hard, working hard, working hard, working hard. . My dream is to become a scientist and invent many scientists' machines to benefit mankind.

My dream is to become a doctor. I don’t want to be a great scientist like Grandpa Deng, but I may become a doctor to treat cancer and remove diseases for humans.

In our lives, there are many things that we need to do, and we cannot give up our dreams just because of small things.

My dream is to become a doctor. Doctors, saving lives and healing the wounded is our responsibility in life and the trust of our lives. I want to be a good doctor. Saving lives and healing the wounded is my responsibility in life. I want to be a good doctor. It is my dream to be an excellent doctor and save lives and heal the wounded. I want to be a useful person to society, serve the people, and let mankind live in a favorable position.

I have many dreams, but I know that I will not become a doctor, but I will work hard. I will definitely become an excellent doctor. I believe that I will become an excellent doctor. I am a doctor, so I have to work hard to become an excellent doctor. I have to work hard and I will definitely realize my dream because I am an excellent doctor. I will not let down my family’s trust in me. I will definitely become a pillar of the country. I will use practical actions to fulfill my dream. I will definitely become an excellent doctor.

My dream is to become an excellent doctor. It is my duty to save lives and heal the wounded. I will definitely become a pillar of the country, contribute to people, and make the motherland more prosperous. The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay Part 4

Before I realized the dream of spring grass in the pond, the sound of autumn leaves in front of the steps was already heard.

——Inscription

It was a yellowed rubber-covered book.

The theme of the cover under the matte soft cover is - at the seaside. At dusk, the gorgeous sunset fills the sky, and where the sea of ??clouds intersects, it gradually changes from the light pink of flamingos to the light yellow of egg white. There is this line of text on the upper right corner of the title page:

No matter how dark the night is Long, the dawn will come.

I carefully turned over the yellowed pages of the book, and the memories of the past were brought out again:

From "I helped my mother sweep the floor today, I am so happy!" "I was praised by the teacher today. , so happy!” “If you do well in the exam this time, keep working hard!” “If you don’t do well in the exam this time, keep working hard!” Then... scenes of the past emerge in front of me, the encouragement of my parents, the guidance of my teachers, and my persistence. , warms me, moves me, and inspires me! A chill came over me. "The wind was a bit strong, and the last leaf on the tree outside the window fell off..." "I didn't realize the dream of spring grass in the pond, and the sound of autumn leaves in front of the steps." The girl's thoughts spread the fragrance of spring flowers among the pages.

Continuing to flip through the diary, the diary buried deepest in my memory is this: I want to be a writer, not for any honor, but to spend more time with my mother. In my memory, my diary is always much more mature than that of my peers, maybe it has something to do with my mother. Since she was a child, she has worked hard to take care of everything at home. At that time, I didn’t know how to help her. I just wrote down one stroke in my diary: I can’t let my mother worry.

Looking at the awkward square characters in the diary turning into delicate regular script with hairpin flowers, my nose felt a little sore. It turns out that I was so sensible back then that it made people feel distressed!

It is a witness to my life, containing my joys, sorrows and joys, bit by bit. It is my old friend, with my ups and downs, right and wrong. It is the recorder and participant of my life, and the ups and downs of life are fully displayed in it.

When the night is quiet, the gentle evening breeze blows gently through the city sky, and also blows through my heart, making me warm and purified!

The soft moonlight passed through the window, sprinkling broken silver on the desk, and reflected on the light yellow pages of the diary. The breeze blew through the pages. There was a girl, holding her head with her hands, and another girl. Gently flipping through the diary full of memories with one hand, I smiled from time to time.

That diary is full of memories, full of warmth, and full of touching! The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay Part 5

I am just standing at the intersection of memories, watching the passage of time.

Curling up like a cat on a warm afternoon, the time that has inadvertently merged into it seeps into the blood, hollowed out into bright red lines, and is imprinted in the memory, repeated over and over again.

If you fold the memories.

Looking back like this, I still can’t remember the beginning of the sad fairy tale. It was written in the cracks of the colorful notepad, flowed down from the tip of our pen, and then disappeared in the wind after being passed on many times. Someone said: "When the relationship between us has become a thing of the past, the saddest thing is that everything is as clear as yesterday." I wonder if we were too noisy in the past. Otherwise, how could I, who would sing the song of divorce in the future, close my eyes and watch The result is a picture that took four years to paint, rendered in the sunset, and played by the window of teenagers.

I will still miss you in the future. I miss the past, but when I look back, I find that the familiar face is no longer there.

If you turn the hour hand backwards.

Later, it was the eternity in the promise. I still remember someone telling me that there is no forever, because no one knows how far away eternity is. In a strange world, I secretly pay attention to everything that happens to them, watching my figure fade away in someone's life, but I can't muster the courage to say another sentence: "Hey, someone."

Then, I touched that sentence again, and felt that the cold liquid became increasingly familiar because of someone. It was just because someone said that he would accompany me to this graduation ceremony. I remembered someone saying: "You will not be replaced by anyone..." ..." But the ending was already written before everything could happen.

If time just snowed.

Who said that turning over a calendar can erase the imprint of someone in your mind. If this is the case, how could I stand in the cold wind of December again, looking at the snowy ceremony, and then think of the first time four years ago when I celebrated this joy that was not my own, and think of the hangings someone gave me The ornaments are still flying in the wind, and I think of the greeting card sent by someone but still locked in the drawer... too many thoughts, too many memories. It's just that the snow has stopped, and the diary about someone can only fade and grow old as the weather gradually turns yellow.

Let the body become a container and block the memory of someone.

I wish I could use the cross of fate to reverse time, go back to the past, and keep the memories fresh and sealed in my heart. Then will it become like someone said: "As you grow up, you begin to cherish the past, just like being attached to the bitter sweetness of a licorice stick."

The story from the beginning of summer to the end of winter, Like two straight lines, after they intersect, they begin to continue indefinitely. Maintaining the inertia of memories, I tried to touch your face again across time and space, drawing a perfect arc with my hand in the air, only to realize that everything was a nightmare.

Time is a one-way ticket, it can only move forward.

I am just standing on the altar of time, watching a few young people with smiles like flowers, drifting away... That diary is full of memories 800-word essay 6

< p> I have been in the habit of writing a diary since I was a child, and I filled it up here and there. Open it, and the stream of time begins to sing.

My childhood diaries are like fairy tales. I would jump in the forest wearing a beautiful white gauze skirt, sing with the birds, and play hide and seek with the squirrels. Occasionally, when I fall down, a warm-hearted little bear will help me up. Every time I see the crooked words and smiling faces, my heart will jump with joy like that little princess.

The diaries I kept in primary school were like martial arts novels. I could always find the weak people around me and go to help them bravely and fearlessly. I am always surrounded by people from the same profession, and we "talk" and "act chivalrously" every day. I think that I am strong and brave and do not need the protection of others. When I see the enlarged exclamation marks, I will shake my head now. Shaking his head, he smiled helplessly.

The current diary is like a "miserable world". After entering junior high school, the diary will be like a new person, only complaining about heavy homework, too much pressure and too much knowledge every day. Cloudy skies and low pressure surrounded me, and sometimes it rained heavily. The pain caused by growing up is about to overwhelm me, and I always say angrily: "How great it would be if I could stay in elementary school forever!"

Whenever this happens, I always close the book. , open the window and look out, letting the fresh air fill the room again and take away the unpleasant mood. Yes, many people will say that children in adolescence will have "growing pains", which is a kind of pressure caused by not being able to adapt to the rhythm of life, but they must be experienced in order to grow.

Just like the diary that needs to be updated every day, it is not only used to carry emotional garbage, but also has the function of rejuvenating people after throwing away the garbage. So those memories that are full of memories should just be memories, leave them in the past, clear your mind, and welcome the future.

I will remember the happiness and joy of childhood, the sadness and pain of the past, shoulder the responsibilities of the future, and continue to move forward with full memories. The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay part 7

The summer in my memory is always full of heat, the forest echoes with the chirping and noise of cicadas, and all the smiling faces and footprints are crushed in that shallow The wind blew gently over the book with a blue cover, exuding a light fragrance.

When I opened the front page of the diary, it was full of playful words and unintelligible words. Between the lines, I seemed to see the unyielding self again: When I first entered middle school, everything seemed so fresh. The dazzling array of activity posters everywhere naturally could not resist the huge temptation. The student union was my original goal. The busyness of preparing materials and the anxiety during the interview were all recorded in that small diary. When all the preparations seemed to be going smoothly, I failed at the last and most critical link. I humiliated myself and recorded everything in a notebook. To this day, I can still vaguely see the traces of unwilling tears shed between the lines.

As the diary becomes thicker and thicker, and with more and more memories, I see the self that is constantly being exercised in activities: the seriousness when discussing academics in the Model United Nations conference; The fierce war of words; the busyness of planning activities in the student activity group. The words are my desire for excellence. All my past experiences seem to be silently paving the way for success and taking root...

As the diary comes to an end, the words have changed from ignorance to maturity, and the style has gradually become stable. That is Another self, a brand new self: The re-election campaign a year later. The experience over the past year gave me the courage to stand there and give a speech. There was no doubt that I was elected. At this time, I was no longer the girl who was anxious even during interviews and cried when she failed. I wrote down one stroke in my diary: "The boy in the past has grown up and lost his heavy childish shell. , gradually sprouting feathers, ready to spread its wings and soar in the blue sky..."

I named this diary that carries memories along the way "Meeting". When I meet my past self, even if it is a little childish and ridiculous, time But it gives it a different meaning; when you meet your future self, even if there are unknown dangers and challenges, there is still a future to look forward to. The diary is full of memories. 800-word essay Part 8

Opening the diary, the dust was falling, looking at the childish handwriting, I couldn't help but smile, the memories came flooding in.

"Huh, other classes have so many snacks that they can't even put them on the podium! Look at how poor our class is!" My deskmate muttered, and his resentful little eyes were really funny. On the day of Children's Day, the teacher agreed to hold one last activity, and everyone was overjoyed. A burst of melodious music sounded, accompanied by howling ghosts and taunting songs. Immediately, loud laughter rose into the sky. Everyone's face turned red with laughter, like a ripe persimmon. They leaned forward and backward, waving their hands wildly. The teacher put his finger to his mouth, trying his best to signal for silence, but he couldn't hide the upward curve of the corners of his mouth. The dazzling show, although not very exciting, is full of laughter. "Click" "click", a few photos freeze the time at that moment.

That laughter can never be forgotten to this day.

The records of classmates came overwhelmingly, one after another. Just keep your head down and write. No matter how much pen and ink I use, I can't describe six years of love. My hands are sore, but the paper is too small. It was written in the diary that there were two people at the same table who were secretly writing classmate notes during class. He half-covered it with a book and put a pencil case in front of him, and glanced at the teacher from time to time, as if he had done something wrong. The teacher also looked around. They were like thieves. The teacher strode towards them, and they seemed to have been hit by a thunderbolt. Their little hands had nowhere to rest, and their eyes kept blinking. The teacher opened the book expressionlessly, looked at it, and suddenly said: "The word 'paper' is wrong." Then the class resumed. Of course, it is indispensable to go to the office to "drink tea" after class. Thinking of that aggrieved look, as good as a rabbit, I want to laugh.

In June, the teacher asked us to read a message, and there was a touch of sadness in the class. The sun was just right, sneaking in through the crack in the door, and the soft sound of cicadas sounded over and over again. The gardenias are blooming, and the fragrance fills the entire campus. Everything is so beautiful. As I read and listened, my eyes became red, and my tears were like broken beads, and I couldn't stop them. "Dear ××, I'm vomiting. It's a bit pretentious. I just want to say, goodbye!" A classmate trembled and squeezed out a few words. Time slipped through his fingers, joyful and sad. The classroom was filled with tears. The teacher still smiled and looked at us.

"When I went to get my report card that day, the teacher just said: 'You must study hard in the future!' It was a very bland sentence. Everyone was running and laughing, and no sadness could be seen. No crying, just as careless as before No lungs. Goodbye..." it was written in the notebook.

Flowers will bloom again, and people will never be young again.

That book carries the past... ;