I think there are many things in a person's life that can't be found again, such as time and people you once loved. I like the street in my home. At night, the dim lights illuminate the street, like an unknown journey with no end in sight. There is a large cemetery in front of my house, and there is a big willow tree at the door. People often say that willow trees are spiritual trees that can absorb people's breath, so they are planted on graves. There is a pond on the south side of the cemetery, and next to it is the place where garbage is dumped. When I am at home, every time I take out the trash at night, it is the most relaxing time of the day. There is no one here, no one alive, but the dead lie quietly on the ground. It seems like I am the only one here, so quiet and comfortable. So, at that time, I thought that I wanted to be an mortician in the future, and I wanted to put makeup on them, because I felt so comfortable and free. The Hui people were buried there. When they were buried, they did not have coffins, so they could just wrap them in white cloth. So last time they moved the cemetery, no outsiders were allowed to be present. Because the land in front of my house is going to be built into a house. There are no more walks in the cemetery on summer evenings, no chirping of crickets, no breeze blowing, no comfort of the veins of weeds running through my feet, and the me that I was at that time is no longer there. I became the person I didn't want to be, living a life where others were satisfied and I felt wronged. But this is life, maybe.