Last night, I walked in the snow for a long time, without any thoughts, without any worries, like a simple seaweed. Watching the curling breath, my thoughts drifted further and further. I thought about the past, thought about my youth, thought about the noisy school campus of my childhood. At that time, heavy snow covered the Jianghan Plain, and eight-year-old me finished all my homework, holding half a bottle of Sprite, squatting in front of the TV. I won't think about it anymore when I think about it here, it's time to make a conclusion with my past self.
I have been in this absurd world for 20 years now 🥳 At this point, let me wish myself a happy birthday 🎂 I am now considered a person in their thirties, as the ancients said, "Thirty is the age to stand on one's own feet." I wonder if ten years from now, I will be able to establish myself?
I am grateful to have survived until now. Twenty years have been enough for me to have a basic understanding of where I come from, where I am going, what to do, and how to do it. I will continue to play with the inevitable fate, for wealth, power, fame, and status, for wisdom, dignity, responsibility, and virtue, for justice, harmony, freedom, and the public interest, for Marx and Nietzsche, for goodness and beauty, for true love and truth, to make life more magnificent.
So far, life has been written in capital letters with failures, but it will not stop me from moving forward. Reading, making friends, are not as passionate as this blood, hot, burning sensation. I want to burn for half a lifetime, to live up to the words I am saying now.