There is always a kind of expectation that never falls; there is always a kind of expectation that lingers in my mind all day long; there is always a kind of expectation that goes down the brow, but goes up to the heart.
Look at the high-rise buildings, which are built with your hands; in the bright classroom, everywhere is soaked with your sweat. How many hot sun and cold winter, there are your curved back; how many seasons of rotation, the passage of your youth.
Full of hope, you pick up your bags and leave your hometown in order to support your family.
When you come to the city, you never stop for a moment. No matter the wind blows or the rain blows, no matter the sun is hot. When we were still sleeping under the quilt, you had already started the day's work; when we were lying in bed watching TV, you went home after a tired day to cook; when we fanned the fan and blew the air conditioner for a lunch break, you were still working under the stove; when we were afraid of raindrops getting wet and chatting at home, you wore hats and clothes and struggled in the rain. For you, every day is a working day; for you, there are no holidays, let alone weekends.
In the past, you worked in the soil from generation to generation, and in return, you brought up your children from generation to generation. And now, you have spilled blood in the city for generations. And what the city has done to you, or mercilessly abandoned you, abandoned you in the countryside. Leave you at the end of the city. At the end of the city, there are no bustling markets, no shining neon lights. Only dilapidated shantytowns, only narrow and humid environment, only weather-beaten life.
You do everything possible to integrate into the city, but the city has no room for you. The builders of the city have become the vagrants of the city.
I recall that when I came to school this year, you were crowded everywhere near the railway station and in the carriages. I don't understand what is always pulling you in a hurry. There is always an expectation, looking forward to all eyes watching you; looking forward to one day have your special line; always looking forward to one day the city can also accommodate you; looking forward to one day you will also become us.
There is always an expectation that never falls; there is always an expectation that lies silently; there is always an expectation that is passed on from generation to generation. The sun is rising from the horizon, illuminating the end of the city.
One day, expectations will come true.
Author: wait for love to drift
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