一长久以来,“外婆”始终是一个被我刻意回避的词语,像树荫回避炽烈的阳光,像水里的鱼儿回避天空和翅膀,像从乡下涌向城市的年轻人回避自己的故乡。回避的结果在沉睡的泥土之下,它是一块不动声色的石头,从不正面告诉我什么,我听不到看不见泥土给出的答案。也许,今天一切的事物和思想都将归于泥土。泥土,不是废墟。在我的国家,流水总是比砖头更硬,金钱总是比感情更加牢靠。因此,真实会令人变得痛苦、肌肉萎缩甚至面目可憎,而虚伪却能够使人保持完整和安全。对于外婆,我时常有种无从说起的焦虑,因为她 For a long time, “grandmother” has always been a word that I deliberately avoided, like the shade of the blazing sun, like a fish in the water avoiding the sky and wings, like a young man flocking to the city from the countryside home. The result of the avoidance is under the sleeping earth, it is a quiet stone, never tell me what, I can not hear the answer can not see the soil. Perhaps all things and thoughts today will go to the earth. Soil, not ruins. In my country, running water is always harder than bricks, and money is always more solid than affection. Therefore, truth can make people become painful, atrophied or even disgusting, while hypocrisy keeps people intact and safe. For grandmother, I often have a kind of anxiety that can not be said, because of her