confession week

I am a junior, a junior at work.

As an acting teacher, what you have to do is to be obedient and do your job well, otherwise you will not have your seat next year. Some people say, "The acting teacher is kneeling and begging for food." We are like Disposable tableware can be thrown away after use. No matter how easy it is, no one will cherish the disposable tableware, because it can be replaced at any time in name.

So I always feel like a junior, but how can anyone be born with the dream of being a junior? So I continued to pursue to be a main palace, to be an official teacher, to want to be able to get out of the hall, to the kitchen, and to be able to enter the bedroom. passerby.

The process of pursuit is so easy. In the first year, I worked hard for the re-examination. I prepared with all my strength, and invited colleagues and friends from all over the world to complete this great dream. Every practice is a torture for me. A puppet that is at the mercy of others, every trial teaching is aroused by adrenaline. I wonder if you have ever experienced the tingling feeling of wanting to cry in your heart, laughing on the surface, and blood rushing to your forehead at the same time? I thought it would be fine. After going through these hellish ordeals, after stepping into the exam room and feeling dizzy, I thought it would be fine. But the willpower that I thought I was supporting collapsed at the moment when I fell off the list, and I only felt that I was ten years older at that moment, and no one could bear the weight of me as I fell endlessly.

After experiencing countless falling moments, I found that every time I had a deeper hatred, there seemed to be a rewind button in my mind playing the test preparation bits and pieces again and again, I was like a detective trying to find out what was wrong. , I wanted to peel it off layer by layer to find out the reason for the failure. I kept tearing the wound bigger and deeper again and again, even though it was bloody, I would never get tired of it. Finally, I found that the deepest hatred was hating myself.

The once full of blood and ambition is a sharp blade that has been stabbed in the heart and cannot be pulled out.

I'm a junior, and I still am, and I can't correct my name.