The continuous dissolution of poetic flavor reveals a solitary melancholy, and what is left is only the self-questioning of the author, his helplessness in the secular world and soberness after pretended madness.

• 诗意的不断消解折射出的是彻骨的悲凉，剩下的只有文人心灵的自我叩问，以及那一份世俗里的无奈与佯狂背后的清醒。