Culture & Society
# Netizen Contribution: After returning from Southeast Asia, I will never go back to the past.
# Netizen Contribution: After returning from Southeast Asia, I will never go back to the past.
The stars are so bright at night.It seems that in the past few years in Southeast Asia, it was rare to seriously look up at the stars.At this moment, lying in bed, I began to think nonsense again: how can a person's life be considered a good life? The few of us grew up together and traveled abroad together.Nowadays, some people have returned home and stolen their lives; some people have gone to prison; some people are still wandering outside; and some people have achieved wealth freedom.
And I, like someone stuck in the middle.It has been six months since I returned home.On the surface, I am no different from ordinary people, but only I know that I am not who I used to be.
When I got off the plane and stepped on the domestic land, my legs were soft.Without the heart held by the Cambodian side all the time, without the sound of the keyboard constantly pounding in the office, and without the abusive voice of the supervisor, the surroundings were terribly quiet.
The quieter I can be, the less comfortable I am.I locked myself in the house for a whole week, drawing the curtains, and the room was dark.He couldn't sleep and didn't want to move.As soon as he closed his eyes, it was all over the picture over there, and he couldn't shake it. I dare not tell the family the truth.My parents asked me what I used to do abroad. I only dared to say that I worked in a factory. Although I was tired, I could make some money.There are some things I dare not say.I am afraid that the family will be scattered as soon as I say it; I am afraid that my parents will not accept it; I am afraid that the neighbors will talk behind my back; I am even more afraid that they will think that I am "dirty".
After returning home, I did not dare to look for any regular work.Now I can only go to the construction site to move bricks, or do some daytime work.Every day, he was tired and sore. At night, he lay in bed and struggled to even turn over.
But the strange thing is that only in this way can I sleep more solidly.As long as I don't have to think about those things before, I will admit that I am more bitter and tired.
The co-workers gathered to smoke and chat, talking about the children, the wife, and how much money they earned today.I can't plug in, and I don't want to.I always felt that I was separated from them by a wall.I don't seem to belong here anymore, but I can't go back.
Sometimes walking down the street and seeing those “anti-fraud propaganda” banners, my heart trembled.When I see people talking on their phones, I subconsciously avoid my eyes.Those words and tricks, those chat records, those deceptive ways, have long been carved into the bones.In this lifetime, you may never forget.
I don't ask for anything to get rich now, nor dare to talk about the future.I just want to earn some steady money and support my family.Don't let the police find you.Don't let your parents know about that shit.Just like this, he lives in a daze, and a day counts as a day.
The stars are so bright at night.It seems that in the past few years in Southeast Asia, it was rare to seriously look up at the stars.At this moment, lying in bed, I began to think nonsense again: how can a person's life be considered a good life? The few of us grew up together and traveled abroad together.Nowadays, some people have returned home and stolen their lives; some people have gone to prison; some people are still wandering outside; and some people have achieved wealth freedom.
And I, like someone stuck in the middle.It has been six months since I returned home.On the surface, I am no different from ordinary people, but only I know that I am not who I used to be.
When I got off the plane and stepped on the domestic land, my legs were soft.Without the heart held by the Cambodian side all the time, without the sound of the keyboard constantly pounding in the office, and without the abusive voice of the supervisor, the surroundings were terribly quiet.
The quieter I can be, the less comfortable I am.I locked myself in the house for a whole week, drawing the curtains, and the room was dark.He couldn't sleep and didn't want to move.As soon as he closed his eyes, it was all over the picture over there, and he couldn't shake it. I dare not tell the family the truth.My parents asked me what I used to do abroad. I only dared to say that I worked in a factory. Although I was tired, I could make some money.There are some things I dare not say.I am afraid that the family will be scattered as soon as I say it; I am afraid that my parents will not accept it; I am afraid that the neighbors will talk behind my back; I am even more afraid that they will think that I am "dirty".
After returning home, I did not dare to look for any regular work.Now I can only go to the construction site to move bricks, or do some daytime work.Every day, he was tired and sore. At night, he lay in bed and struggled to even turn over.
But the strange thing is that only in this way can I sleep more solidly.As long as I don't have to think about those things before, I will admit that I am more bitter and tired.
The co-workers gathered to smoke and chat, talking about the children, the wife, and how much money they earned today.I can't plug in, and I don't want to.I always felt that I was separated from them by a wall.I don't seem to belong here anymore, but I can't go back.
Sometimes walking down the street and seeing those “anti-fraud propaganda” banners, my heart trembled.When I see people talking on their phones, I subconsciously avoid my eyes.Those words and tricks, those chat records, those deceptive ways, have long been carved into the bones.In this lifetime, you may never forget.
I don't ask for anything to get rich now, nor dare to talk about the future.I just want to earn some steady money and support my family.Don't let the police find you.Don't let your parents know about that shit.Just like this, he lives in a daze, and a day counts as a day.
# Netizen Contribution: After returning from Southeast Asia, I will never go back to the past.
The stars are so bright at night.It seems that in the past few years in Southeast Asia, it was rare to seriously look up at the stars.At this moment, lying in bed, I began to think nonsense again: how can a person's life be considered a good life? The few of us grew up together and traveled abroad together.Nowadays, some people have returned home and stolen their lives; some people have gone to prison; some people are still wandering outside; and some people have achieved wealth freedom.
And I, like someone stuck in the middle.It has been six months since I returned home.On the surface, I am no different from ordinary people, but only I know that I am not who I used to be.
When I got off the plane and stepped on the domestic land, my legs were soft.Without the heart held by the Cambodian side all the time, without the sound of the keyboard constantly pounding in the office, and without the abusive voice of the supervisor, the surroundings were terribly quiet.
The quieter I can be, the less comfortable I am.I locked myself in the house for a whole week, drawing the curtains, and the room was dark.He couldn't sleep and didn't want to move.As soon as he closed his eyes, it was all over the picture over there, and he couldn't shake it. I dare not tell the family the truth.My parents asked me what I used to do abroad. I only dared to say that I worked in a factory. Although I was tired, I could make some money.There are some things I dare not say.I am afraid that the family will be scattered as soon as I say it; I am afraid that my parents will not accept it; I am afraid that the neighbors will talk behind my back; I am even more afraid that they will think that I am "dirty".
After returning home, I did not dare to look for any regular work.Now I can only go to the construction site to move bricks, or do some daytime work.Every day, he was tired and sore. At night, he lay in bed and struggled to even turn over.
But the strange thing is that only in this way can I sleep more solidly.As long as I don't have to think about those things before, I will admit that I am more bitter and tired.
The co-workers gathered to smoke and chat, talking about the children, the wife, and how much money they earned today.I can't plug in, and I don't want to.I always felt that I was separated from them by a wall.I don't seem to belong here anymore, but I can't go back.
Sometimes walking down the street and seeing those “anti-fraud propaganda” banners, my heart trembled.When I see people talking on their phones, I subconsciously avoid my eyes.Those words and tricks, those chat records, those deceptive ways, have long been carved into the bones.In this lifetime, you may never forget.
I don't ask for anything to get rich now, nor dare to talk about the future.I just want to earn some steady money and support my family.Don't let the police find you.Don't let your parents know about that shit.Just like this, he lives in a daze, and a day counts as a day.
The stars are so bright at night.It seems that in the past few years in Southeast Asia, it was rare to seriously look up at the stars.At this moment, lying in bed, I began to think nonsense again: how can a person's life be considered a good life? The few of us grew up together and traveled abroad together.Nowadays, some people have returned home and stolen their lives; some people have gone to prison; some people are still wandering outside; and some people have achieved wealth freedom.
And I, like someone stuck in the middle.It has been six months since I returned home.On the surface, I am no different from ordinary people, but only I know that I am not who I used to be.
When I got off the plane and stepped on the domestic land, my legs were soft.Without the heart held by the Cambodian side all the time, without the sound of the keyboard constantly pounding in the office, and without the abusive voice of the supervisor, the surroundings were terribly quiet.
The quieter I can be, the less comfortable I am.I locked myself in the house for a whole week, drawing the curtains, and the room was dark.He couldn't sleep and didn't want to move.As soon as he closed his eyes, it was all over the picture over there, and he couldn't shake it. I dare not tell the family the truth.My parents asked me what I used to do abroad. I only dared to say that I worked in a factory. Although I was tired, I could make some money.There are some things I dare not say.I am afraid that the family will be scattered as soon as I say it; I am afraid that my parents will not accept it; I am afraid that the neighbors will talk behind my back; I am even more afraid that they will think that I am "dirty".
After returning home, I did not dare to look for any regular work.Now I can only go to the construction site to move bricks, or do some daytime work.Every day, he was tired and sore. At night, he lay in bed and struggled to even turn over.
But the strange thing is that only in this way can I sleep more solidly.As long as I don't have to think about those things before, I will admit that I am more bitter and tired.
The co-workers gathered to smoke and chat, talking about the children, the wife, and how much money they earned today.I can't plug in, and I don't want to.I always felt that I was separated from them by a wall.I don't seem to belong here anymore, but I can't go back.
Sometimes walking down the street and seeing those “anti-fraud propaganda” banners, my heart trembled.When I see people talking on their phones, I subconsciously avoid my eyes.Those words and tricks, those chat records, those deceptive ways, have long been carved into the bones.In this lifetime, you may never forget.
I don't ask for anything to get rich now, nor dare to talk about the future.I just want to earn some steady money and support my family.Don't let the police find you.Don't let your parents know about that shit.Just like this, he lives in a daze, and a day counts as a day.