Where do I come from.
I have never known this issue. How many years have I wandered in this land of salt-and-zao households?
Maybe I was just a piece of mud at first, or something. I always spread out at first. In the trees, in the salt, in the rocks, in the deep sea, floating in the sky, in another universe, all the tiny points, all the deep roots, are closely connected to who they are, everywhere. I am a speck of a beetle's tentacle, a meteorite from the sky, a molecule in a meteorite, a wrinkle on a maggot, a hair from a platypus, a piece of skin from a paramecium, an ape's fingernail, or an unknown person from another dynasty who drank a sip of water on an unknown day. The possibilities are endless.