On Narrative Discourse of Post-90s Generation

Silkworm rearing was very popular when I was a child, in the corner of the school gate. Several vendors carried a cage of larvae and young leaves, peddling the ideal of turning pupae into butterflies. I pestered my mother to buy a dozen and put them at home. How I want to see them break their pupae and flap their wings, but how naughty I am to know the hardships of raising silkworms. Soon, they all died under the strangulation of filar silk and white silk Mother said, "You children are just having fun." That night, I lost sleep, thinking about the broken wings of the pupa. When I grow up, I like to compare myself and my peers to small silkworms. After 90, which one of us is not the secret of flying with a broken pupa, and which one has never dreamed of his light wings? However, we seem to forget that the beautiful dream wings carry such a heavy reality. We look up at the horizon, but we can't take solid steps.

We all have a heart to fly, but we don't know where to forge strong wings. I still remember that the whole class read Sima Qian's "Bao Ren An", "I also want to learn from the changes of ancient and modern times and get married", and each of us read it vigorously. At that moment, the hidden string in our hearts was hummed and played. This is the subtle hum of one dream after another, and we are intoxicated. It seems that we can always spread our gorgeous wings, and we have long ignored our immaturity. "King Wen was arrested and played Zhouyi; Zhong You wrote Spring and Autumn Annals; Qu Yuan's exile is a tribute to Li Sao. Zuo Qiu is blind and has "Mandarin"; The ruler of the revised version of Sun Tzu's Art of War; Wei didn't move to Shu, Lu Lan handed down from generation to generation ... We still can't see what kind of thorns are everywhere, and what kind of bloody battle lies in front of our dreams. After 90, we will sing I will mount a long wind a day and break the heavy waves, and shout when we climb to the top, people will see it, but we missed a few minutes to find him.

We all have a warm-blooded heart, but we don't know how to show our enthusiasm for serving our country in small places. I remember that we all listened to a lecture. The guests listed the flags of other countries planted in China waters and explained how ships from other countries crossed our waters. We were all outraged at that time. This is the anger of China people, a generation born after 1990s, who are shouldering the hardships of their predecessors in founding the country. I remember that many people present at that time clenched their fists and gritted their teeth silently, and my heart was moving like the tide. I still remember that after May 12, the whole country mourned that day, and the teachers and students of the whole school poured their grief into their hearts under the national flag and along the drizzle. I looked at the rows of silent back, looked at the half-fallen five-star red flag, there is a mixed feeling. However, behind the disaster and humiliation is our indifference to raising the national flag and singing the national anthem every time, and our neglect of state affairs. How many of us don't even know that the animal head of Yuanmingyuan is being auctioned by looters in France. We have passion, but we don't know where to invest.

We are a contradictory generation, with darkness behind us and light ahead. We are shouldering the hope of China, with the dream of breaking the pupa into a butterfly. After 90, you need to set foot on a muddy road to test the firmness of your footprint. I believe that returning from a bloody bath has become a butterfly.