Memories about campus Broken Guitar · Bad City · Want to Go Home This is a seven-day holiday, which is called "Golden Week". Your task is to spend these seven days in a very busy and tense way. How to pass this golden week and design a reasonable play plan is really not fun at all.Some people plan long-distance raids, some prepare to sit in the capital, some design travel plans that allow the body to travel far away, and some are brewing a mental journey to relive their feelings. What I propose is: take advantage of this long vacation when everyone is free, let us get together with old classmates and friends from the past.

How are you feeling now?Is it joy and sorrow, or an unknown sorrow?This is Li Zongsheng's world.What I think of is an old song by Zhang Hongliang: "Broken Guitar · Bad City · Want to Go Home". The three images in the title of the song can sum up our current mood. A broken guitar is your youth that is no longer romantic.You are now in your thirties, and your stomach is like a pot lid on your belly; you look so well-informed that nothing can turn you on; your face is getting more and more vulgar, just like when you were young The most annoying look. Back then, you dared to sing anything, even if you were tone deaf; you dared to do anything, even if it wasn’t an adventure, you had to applaud yourself; you felt that everything was new, and you expressed heartfelt admiration for things worthy of your love .

You were once so young, you were so young that you even envied yourself; you were once so stupid, so stupid that only those who were foolish with you have the nerve to mention it. Play the old guitar, can you still sing? The city isn't bad, it's just a bit congested.But it is also not the golden paradise you imagined. What is rotting is your distant past and unfulfilled dreams.You have a house and a car, but you don’t have the high-spirited feeling of a few poor guys walking on the road; you can afford everything, but you start to worry about your body and fatty liver; you used to shout " When I had nothing, I felt that I had the whole world. Now you seem to have a lot of things, but when you open your hands, what do you really have?

There is no dream of yours in the city, but you can't escape.You have to live here solidly and become one of them. You have no energy to say that you have no energy. Want to go home, but you have no home to return to.You can't find your home among the densely packed high-rise buildings. For those living in Beijing, who would dare to say that this is your hometown? The youth we spent together and the days we grew up together are the spiritual hometown we can never go back to. In this long holiday, come to a short gathering, let us get together, even if we don’t say anything, just sit silently for a while, laugh silly for a while, and make wild noises for a while.

Leave your thoughts in the pile of empty wine bottles, and then life will continue, treating a foreign land as a hometown, and exile as a voyage.