求有关于校园生活的英语短文字数100个左右,内容以校园生活为主,

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求有关于校园生活的英语短文字数100个左右,内容以校园生活为主,

求有关于校园生活的英语短文字数100个左右,内容以校园生活为主,
求有关于校园生活的英语短文
字数100个左右,内容以校园生活为主,

求有关于校园生活的英语短文字数100个左右,内容以校园生活为主,
不建议叫人帮忙写作文.给你几个要点吧
1.Campus life is exciting and full of challenge.(Add what you have gained in the school here)
2.Friendship should be treasured,which may not be found in the society.
3.We could make the life better than ever before by ourselves.(Such as working hard and being positive when faced with difficulties)

Make up the article yourself!

Advantages of Five-Day week
A five-day week has been put into practice in China, which is welcomed by every-one.Families have benefited from it very much. Children are able to learn usefully skil...

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Advantages of Five-Day week
A five-day week has been put into practice in China, which is welcomed by every-one.Families have benefited from it very much. Children are able to learn usefully skills, women have enough time to take care of the house or relax.
society has also benefited from it.Then the shops and travel agency will have more customers.What's more, individuals can make full use of a weekend for a good rest. Adequate rest will enable him to work more efficiently.
还有一篇
In my opinion, the schoolwork now being assigned to high school students is too heavy. While it is true that students need to study, they need other things as well if they are to grow into healthy and well-rounded adults. High should be allowed more time for play. Plying is not wasting time, as some think. It gives them physical exercise, and also exercise their imagination. Which tends to be stifled by too much study. Finally, the pressure put on high school students by excessive schoolwork can cause serious stress, which is unhealthy physically and mentally. I do not advocate the elimination of schoolwork. I do think, however, that a reduction of the current heavy load would be beneficial to students and to the society as a whole.
下面这一篇有点长,你用得着就节选把
Every day we are bombarded with images and footage of the world around us, more specifically the people who inhabit it. And those people we see, yes, many of them are themselves, but how many are airbrushed and perfected, anorexic, ill, yet thousands of people, mainly children and teens look up to these figures as characters to look up to and mirror. I know because that''s what I did, and still do. I am a sixteen year old and have just recovered from a year out of high school. ''Great'' you say, ''what are you moaning about then?'' It may sound great, but it couldn''t be further from the truth when the reason your banned, yes banned from attending school, is because your anorexic. When I was young, up until a couple of years ago, I was overweight, not grossly, but more so than some people. Then, after ages of trying to do something, I started my journey. My goal - simply to loose weight and become sexy and attractive. With an unending stream of role models to look up to, from movies to magazines to television programs it was easy to imagine how I wanted to look. I watched them and envied them, in my head I would (and still do) say ''I want to be like that, no, I am going to be like that.'' It''s my foremost dream. It always will be, even after the ordeal I went through last year and most of this year. Like I said, I lost weight, quickly but not dangerously, I just wanted to be like ''them''. From a size 18/20, I shrunk to a 14, then a 10. I was so pleased, my family were ecstatic. But I wasn''t perfect, just a bit more, a size 8 I decided on. I lost more weight and was happy, as I wanted, I became a size 8. Then unintentionally, I shrunk more and more and more. I didn''t mean to, it''s just that I couldn''t stop. I kept going. I went on holiday to Poland to visit my grandparents and when I returned home my mum, (who didn''t come) just stared. Usually, when we come home from our Easter break, mum is overjoyed to see us. This time, she greeted me in silence, and when she managed to muster something, it was plastic and see through. When I caught her o her own she told me I looked like a skeleton, the walking dead. I didn''t care, I felt slim, sexy and great, full of confidence. The first time in my life I was happy with the way I looked. Granted, on reflection, I guess I was barley eating, I never stopped eating, but the amount I did consume was negligible. I was constantly on the move, cleaning, shopping, walking, exercising. I was afraid to sit down, to watch TV, to play my XBox, go on the Internet, read, watch a movie, I had to move, otherwise I would become fat again. I went to school, did the work, but when it came to homework, I would stand instead of sit, again, in fear of putting on weight. Then, one day I came home from school and without a word my mum bundled me into the car and took me to hospital. I was admitted with an eating disorder and kept for a month or so. I spent my 15th birthday in the Hospital. They checked my bloods and tried to make me eat. I ate a only to get out. When I was out, I started all over. Excessive output, negligible input. I didn''t like the way I was living, but I liked the fact that I was slim. My mum refused to buy me clothes smaller than a size 8, once, she bought me a size 6 pair of jeans, I was so proud, SIZE 6! Soon they too were falling off and nothing would fit, I had to go down to ages 11-12 before something would barely fit. This time last year, shops didn''t stock below size 6, which was unfortunate, because now, whenever I go into a clothes shop, I can always find size 4''s and occasionally below. When my condition didn''t improve, I was re-refereed to the hospital refereed me to a mental hospital. This was, not to sound childish but, unfair. It was my choice to be this way, and when I was at the top of all my classes at school and could write ten page essays when only one page was asked for and getting top grades as standard, I think you will agree with me that there was absolutely nothing wrong ''upstairs''. I was perfectly compus mentus and had no need to be where they put me. As I steadily declined, they admitted me - a 16 year old in a mental institution. They appointed me a psychiatrist and she grilled me, putting words in my mouth, telling me things that had never crossed my mind. ''You are depressed'', ''Have you thought about suicide?'' ''There must have been a cause for this...'' the list went on. The more they told me about what they thought, the more I believed it. Slowly, I sunk into a state of depression, though I wouldn''t admit it, and more often than not, I thought about ending my life which everyone seemed to hate. My family detested me and wouldn''t let me be, they treated me like I was something to stay clear of. They stopped me going to see my friends, although they couldn''t do much when the friends came to visit of their own accord. When ever I spoke, I got into trouble and wasn''t allowed to call my friends. As a result I stopped talking completely, and when I did speak, it was barely audible. I lost interest in everything, TV, movies, books, fun, life, school, good grades. All that was in my mind was food and getting fat. This rejection simply put fuel to the fire and made me put up more of a fight, while the thoughts of suicide intensified. My friends were the best ever, supporting me and treating me like normal. During one of my consultations at the hospital, the psychiatrist told me I was expending too much energy at school and henceforth banned me from it until I was in a better state. Then, the next step was to make me house bound, not just that, but bed bound. Slowly, I was fading like a flower. But on the other hand, I was a super human, everyone was below me, they needed to eat to survive and ran out of breath after extended periods of exertion. I was living and hardly eating at all, I could exercise intensely for hours and not feel weak or out of breath. To eat was to be weak. I hated my mum for taking me to hospital, and not arguing and fighting to keep me out of a mental institute. (Yes, she gave consent to put me in there, agreeing with the doctors) Now, I''m back at school, I''ve written a novel and I can''t stop eating. I knew how to get better, but my way would take time, and I didn''t want to stay in a mental hospital longer than I had to. And everyone else wanted to fast track me, like I was a waste of time. So I ate like they told me to. Now, I can''t seem to stop, I''m getting better, but I''m not what I want to be. I''m not what I can be. My body is still in recovery, so everything I eat is more or less stored, as my brain doesn''t know when I will starve it next. Eating yet again is hell, and I more or less hate myself for not putting up a better fight. That is what modern day media did to me, but I''m still using it as a role model for what I want to and can be. I know my mum put me to hospital because she cared, but I still hate her for that part of my life. I was what I wanted to be, after 14 years of being overweight and under attractive, I was hot and sexy. Now, yet again, I''m not.
参考资料:toowrite.com story

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