Use fantasy strokes to write about moths flying towards the sun. This is a real moth, yes and no. This is a human being, this moth of mine, flying towards my sun, my dream, and my new world of literature. This is the pen, this is the ink, this is the paper, this is the painting. Yes and no, this is a computer, this is a modern writing instrument. Use this tool to write books, write words, write about countless things about life, countless romances, countless passions, countless literary thoughts and fantasies, here they become words, become art, become the brilliance of one place, the stars of another. My sun, my moth. This is a moth. It does not fly towards the fire, but towards the high sun. This moth in the sun is my grandma swooping at my grandfather, my mother swooping at my father, then my wife swooping at me, and my children swooping at this inch of land. Things grow on the land, crops grow, grass grows, trees grow, and caterpillars of the soul grow, which are moths that fly towards the sun. The moth is me, it is her, it is words, it is numbers, it is small 0, it is small
Concept: A Band-Aid is not attached to my wound, it is attached to my paper, so distinct and clear. I asked, was my paper hurt? It's injured, where is it? He won't tell the truth. Even if you don't tell me, I know Xiaozhi. It is scratched on the paper, like the paper and grid of the mouth. That's interesting. Do you know what this means? Then you looked at me with mocking eyes. I understand, Band-Aid, Xiao 0 is with me.