Everyone is waiting, waiting for a heavy rain, or a gust of wind, or a savior to save this barren land and those souls that have long been numb. And I am still standing in this silent ruin, watching everything gradually decay, but there is no place to vent the anger in my heart. It seems that everything is imprisoned in an invisible cage. We are just those nameless shadows, living forever in other people’s stories, and can never jump out of this invisible cage.
I was born in a small town. This town has no bustling streets or bright lights. The people in the town are tired of surviving in the unchanging days, walking on the dilapidated dirt road, lowering their heads, and dare not raise their eyes. We are like people forgotten by history, living in silence every day, waiting for an invisible future. However, that future has never come.
When I was a child, I often stood in front of the door, watching those who passed by, and there was always an indescribable fatigue on their faces. Whether it is the fastest vendor or the slow-moving farmer, everyone walks through my life with heavy footsteps and disappears into the distance. Everyone seems to be escaping from something, but has to face the world and the reality that they don’t want to look directly at.
I once tried to escape from this land to find the empty freedom. I thought about leaving, going to the big city, to see the outside world, to see the life that looks so glamorous in the camera. However, every time I am ready to take that step, I always find that the land under my feet has an irresistible pull, which firmly absorbs me here and I can’t move. Perhaps it is because from the moment I was born, this land has been closely connected to me and I can’t let it go.
I often hear people say that our society has changed and is no longer the feudal society it used to be, but I always feel that nothing has changed. Those empty slogans and unrealistic ideals are still lingering in my ears. I watched those people in suits and high heels walk into high-rise buildings, and I couldn’t help but sigh in my heart. What are we pursuing? Pursuing the so-called freedom of nothingness, or pursuing a dignity accepted by society? I don’t know, and I don’t even dare to think about it. I can only continue walking in this ruin and continue to face those unchangeable realities.
The people in the town don’t care about these. They just lower their heads, endure the invisible pain, and do their daily work silently. Those old farm tools and those rusty houses seem to be their only home. I once saw an elderly man who wandered the streets every day, with empty eyes, holding a cane in his hand and walking slowly. His back was bent, like a tree trunk bent by the years. I once asked him: “Grandpa, what are you waiting for?” He just lowered his head, didn’t speak, and continued walking. His answer made me feel an extremely deep loneliness, that kind of loneliness, which cannot be expressed in any language.
I have been wondering what makes these people so numb, so numb that even their souls are no longer thirsty. They seem to have given up their expectations for the future and their desire for change. They have become accustomed to all the pain and oppression on this land. Perhaps, they have already lost their dreams, their confidence in changing their fate, and even their self. I looked at them and felt a deep sadness, which was not only sympathy for their fate, but also a deep disappointment in the whole society and the whole era.
I once thought about how to escape from this small town and how to get out of this oppressive environment. I have read many books and heard many words, but all hopes are like castles in the air. No matter how high they are built, they will eventually collapse. Whenever I am ready to take a step, I find myself still bound by invisible shackles and unable to move forward. This shackle may be the shackle of society or the shackle of my heart. They are intertwined and trap me tightly.
Once an intellectual came to the town with his full of ideals and wanted to change everything here. He told me that change is possible and the future can be shaped, as long as each of us is responsible for our own destiny. But he eventually left the town, and his ideal still could not be realized. Those young faces walked around on the street, but they still could not change the reality of this society. Change seems to be just an unattainable dream, always existing in books and words, but never really happening.
This town is still like a silent cage, trapping everyone’s life in it. People still walk on this dull land with their heads down, with an empty heart. No one knows what will happen tomorrow, or whether there will be a tomorrow tomorrow. The people living here are like ghosts abandoned by history, unable to get rid of the shadow of the past, and unable to see the dawn of the future.
I tried to struggle, trying to break this silence in some way, but in the end I still succumbed. Perhaps this is fate. We are powerless to change, and dare not resist. We can only survive in this ruin until we can no longer bear it.
In the end, I understood a truth: this town, this ruin, is not just a geographical location, it is a state deeply rooted in people’s hearts. People here seem to have become the same kind of people-numb, indifferent, and slaves who cannot escape their own destiny.