One Man's Village —— Essay on Original Prose

How to describe this land? Green is barbaric, especially in summer, when all kinds of unknown green grow. For example, people have many children and don't know their names. The village is parasitic on the earth, much like tinea on the instep. It is gray and scattered in green. The earth is extending far and high, but countless people born in the village can't make the village extend.

The mountain is clean and the village is dirty. The road is wide, the wider the road, the smaller the people. Everyone in the village has eyes behind their heads. Looking back, the fate of the predecessors has subdued their fate. Respond, don't line up, this is breaking the formation, and people underground and on the ground will not let him go. Praise and curse are rough and clumsy, holding high and falling, and knowledge and thoughts are expressed at this moment.

To outsiders, this place is desolate, as if waiting for reclamation, and even people's laughter is doubtful: is it worth it?

If you want to say that there is something beautiful here, there is. They are honest, closed, rude and ignorant in my mouth. When I returned to my hometown, it embraced my body and mind with its sureness and imperfection, and I naturally embedded myself in it. I love this land, yes, I love it, I love its brutality, I love its loneliness, I love its repetition, I love people and things that haven't grown up yet.