This era is both real and absurd, with turmoil, disasters, wars... They can happen at any time; this era is destroyed and reborn, deconstructed, overthrown, reconstructed... The long river of history rolls forward; this era is small and great, with some guilty and evil people, some with no name, some who dedicated themselves to death, and some who live forever, but no matter who they are, their short lives are accumulated into the river bed of history.
Just like this poem:
we arrange us
In nature, like a molted cicada moth
Throw the remaining shells into the mud and soil;
We assign ourselves to that
Future death is like a song,
The singing voice falls away from the music,
In the end, only the body of music is left
The green mountains turned into a line of silence.
——Feng Zhi's "What Can Fall Out of Us"
ps: This is my first time writing an article, so my writing style is a bit childish, please forgive me. This article is my own practice article. Some settings are purely fabricated and untrue, so don't blame me! If the writing is not good, you are welcome to correct me. Please don't criticize me. Thank you!
The outline is now revised and rewritten, and the update time is uncertain.
Intention: Look at that little flying insect. In its flight, there is always new life.