The stars move around, time flies, dazzling into the dust for six years, the elegance is gone, often feel that the literature and thinking are exhausted, nothing to do, but the farther away from the Xu, the more complicated the heart, unable to focus, the yin of leisure, but also invaded by other things, the day of the center of January is not two or three days, there is a sense of chance, but also for the chores involved, sighing.

Tonight somehow, I can finally settle my mind a little, and write about this small feeling, if I can hold on and not fall, or there is a small success, then what is the certainty?

Since leaving the warehouse for six years, the small work has gradually thinned, and now the small selection record, the work of the state of mind, leaving this volume. The stubborn stone was born in the nineteenth day of midwinter.

"Poems in the Sea of Dust, Lonely Hung Manbi" and "Another Preface" are being typed by hand, please wait a while,

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