About life

     I've always wanted to write about my insights into life, but in this bustling world, I always feel that I'm not good at reflecting on or understanding such philosophical truths.

    What is life really like? Perhaps we can understand and comprehend it in a moment, or perhaps it takes a lifetime to see through it. Living in this world, we inevitably endure the disturbances of worldly affairs.

    Have we ever complained about all the unfairness? So what? Survival of the fittest, a universal and profound truth. In a society driven by material interests, the relationship between people is tainted with the stench of money.

    I don't understand life. I only understand living without regrets. Sometimes we should see the true nature of this world and people; only then will we understand how to protect ourselves in this dog-eat-dog world.

    Perhaps you have wasted your time in a daze. Should we pursue something? And how should we pursue it?

    The scroll of time unfolds beneath our feet; how should we wield the pen of life well? Perhaps in old age, we will sigh at the passing years like a song. Everyone has dreams, but dreams always lag behind reality.

    Life is full of sorrow, seemingly futile. Every time I wake from a dream, I feel a profound sense of loss. What is that? It's a sadness about life. I have nothing now, what can I fight for?

    "Youthful sorrow intoxicates life, do not enter the lonely, empty heart." About youth, about those things of youth.

    "Life's road is long, sorrow follows youthful days." Old age always comes quickly.

    In a daze, I went from an ignorant youth to this melting pot of life's answers.

    I don't ask for great achievements, I only hope that I can be without regrets in my old age.

    "What is life? A mystery? No, it's like a passionate evening performance." I still don't understand. I don't understand this profoundly meaningful society. Walk this path well, stay true to your course, even in storms, never stray from my course…

    “A song,

    half a cup of tea,

    countless thoughts,

    inextinguishable melancholy,

    the lamp extinguished

    , the wind silent,

    life's half-open window,

    I stand before the window

    , the wind rises,

    the wind blows,

    the rice paper flutters,

    the ink stains remain, the memories of this time,

    broken hairs

    gather into a silver ocean,

    no memories

    , only a longing from my heart,

    deep pupils

    gather into the color of loneliness,

    turning back,

    the pen tip breaks on the fold of life.”