Diary 500 words!

People, sleepy, my heart has been infected and I am used to school life. I want to struggle out of this tension, so I go out for a walk to find my lost happiness. Buried in books all day, I don't know how to find happiness. At this point, my feet involuntarily moved to my home. I walked on the bumpy road, stepping on bitterness, stepping on hope, stepping on the footprints of my ancestors for thousands of years, and slowly walking towards the village, as if the long-forgotten happiness was there, on the land where I was born and raised. I suddenly recalled my childhood: the same kind of sky and this path. A little boy carrying a schoolbag, holding a big knife in his hand, scratched and carved on a pile of soil. His attention seems to be carving a work of art and a beautiful thing. "The earth bumps and carves clay figurines, carving clay figurines like plague gods." The nursery rhymes in my hometown are still clear in my mind at the moment. The path twists and turns through the alley and enters the green field, and the majestic horn sounds in my ear. Thousands of times, the men in the village blew their horns, sowing hope and sweating on the land cultivated by their ancestors for thousands of years. They stand like pine trees between the blue sky and the green fields, declaring war on fate and poverty. I remember this magnificent song pulled me back from the quagmire of disappointment countless times. Thought of here, my mood seems much more relaxed. Men in the village like to drink. Fill the bowl with wine and gulp it down, then touch your beard and wipe your mouth. Wine melted the fatigue of a day and lit the fire of their lives. Prison is the soul, and wine is courage. This is life, real life. Finally home. Poor at home: no telephone, no refrigerator; The family is also very rich: pigs, Chinese cabbage and cucumbers. On weekdays, when you are not at home, you can't be ordinary or miserable. But when I got home, the deep affection of my family almost melted me. The door was knocked down and the family came out and asked questions. I can't bear to eat at ordinary times, so I took it out; Those who are unwilling to spend will make an exception. My mother held my face, her eyes were full of love, and my father went straight to my bowl to pick up food. After dinner, my friends and I sat on the threshing floor, sitting on the grass, enjoying the beautiful scenery of nature and playing in the vast embrace of nature-how happy! I'm so stupid. Isn't it my happiness to live in such a land? There is really a feeling that "there is no doubt in the mountains and rivers, and there is a village". I think my hometown is a person's greatest comfort and my hometown is a person's greatest happiness-I finally found happiness. I must cherish it! Usana once said, "My hometown is a good book." I thought there was no more accurate understanding. My hometown is a masterpiece, and there will never be a last page. I really want to prolong my life, not for longevity, just to read more pages and enjoy my happiness.