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托拉海:沙粒掩映的方向时光重叠在托拉海,犹如漩涡,无止境地向荒野填充沙漠的纯色。在自然收纳托拉海之前,我尝试解剖时光,期待在一粒沙的宽度里勾勒城市经纬,以及掩映于黄沙中的迁徙之路。沙粒的脉络会伸向遥远的天山腹地,还是回到使我魂牵梦绕的阿尔顿曲克草原?我不能确定它最终会将我引向何方。方向,对于自由是一场虚构的唐突。尤其在水泥浇筑的都市,这种方向显得尤为唐突,以至于在白昼交替的维度里全然忘记哈萨克民族的迁徙路径。方向,总有一个开始的原点。对于哈萨
Torah: Grit setting the direction of the time overlap in the Torah, like a whirlpool, indefinitely fill the desert with a solid color of the desert. Before I naturally settled in Torah, I tried to dissect the time, looking forward to sketching the city’s longitude and latitude in the width of a grain of sand and the road to migration that lay in the yellow sand. Will the grit of the grit reach the faraway Tien Shan hinterland, or will it return to the Alton Quack prairie? I’m not sure where it will eventually lead me. Direction, for the freedom is a fictional abrupt. Especially in the city of concrete pouring, this direction seems particularly abrupt, so that in the alternate dimension of daylight, the entire migration path of the Kazakh nation is completely forgotten. Direction, there is always a starting point. For Hasa