Finely sniffing the rose

As I walked awkwardly among the pounding words and sat motionless in the spring night, a slight ache began to grow in my chest. I'm not a hypocrite anymore, don't get me wrong, but I felt as like I was walking in the real world. It's like fighting nonstop, erasing all evidence of those lost in the process, all the while striving to capture anything.

The years of shadow and light entwined are like a dream of spring. The moon and mist remain oblivious to the changes occurring in the world. You are unaware that you are a guest when you wake up; this realization only occurs in dreams.

The splendor, riches, and extravagance he had believed to be fleeting moments, as well as the eternal life he once believed to be eternal. He fell and died in the space of a second. broken up into a powder.

What precisely may satisfy the cravings of the human heart? Is it destructive or spiritual and material? Who is able to express it clearly? It's just that, because fixation is like a wide desert that throws people into uncertainty, regular people like us keep running toward the flame one after another. It's hard to resist temptation when greed takes over.

This season's powerful spring waves awaken the sleeping species along their path, just like a wild beast does.

The spring beauty awoke, sexiness and shyness showing through every pore, spreading her charm. No one noticed the soft earth with the hint of spring, but everything appeared to be just as lovely as it had been before. The nasty tentacles of the resurrected toxic insects are silently spreading.

Nobody is able to break this cycle of rebirth, season after season.

I've always felt a little uneasy in my heart. My impotence against the pitch-black night and my reluctance to go with the flow are the root causes of my deep-seated unease. I constantly think I'm an idiot, too simple-minded to reconcile my inner and exterior selves. There is always an opposition between the wild development inside and the tenderness on the outside.

It often occurs to me: How can I manage this internal chaos? I heard someone else tell me not to remove it. This kind of upheaval is what strengthened my spiritual body and blood. It continued to help me fight this secular society and this charming but soul-separated era.

"After recognizing the truth of life, I still love it." This line is not as simple and unrestrained as it may seem, but its serious core is full of melancholy—like dancing on a knife's edge—knowing full well that it will pierce my heart. However, we must still relish the procedure. Because only in this way can we steer clear of flattery, remain neither haughty nor conceited, and muster a modicum of bravery to discuss so-called "freedom."

I've always desired to be in charge of my freedom in the hopes of obtaining more freedom in recent years. I later learned that this kind of "freedom" is philosophical. As a human, I have to put up with things that I cannot handle and endure what I cannot. I have finally learned to let go of my preoccupation during this long process of life.

My preference for disputing with people is waning, but I still have internal conflicts that I frequently work out. A person's edge cannot be worn down by secular swords and shadows in the realm of mortals, nor can years of pain and vicissitudes render a person truly indifferent. Clarity and self-knowledge can only be attained after hundreds of twists and turns via self-battle.

Backstage, someone left a long message, hoping that I might write out her unsatisfied emotional story. I thought that love was too ostentatious; therefore, I didn't respond to her for a while. It ought to be pure and beautiful, yet who among us will never tire of the fireworks' splendor? If love is everlasting in this world, it can only exist between a person and themselves and cannot involve any other people.

We will never be able to establish a true, profound love of our own in the realm of mortals unless she can see that enduring love is the true meaning of eternal life. A passage from Faulkner's novel suddenly came back to me: "It is wise to put carnival and love in words, because they have no other home."

In actuality, the human heart is the only place where love can truly exist!

This year, I promised my pal that he would take me to the desert. What makes a desert? It could be that, as I wait for the sun to rise, the wind and the sand will take away all of my unbearable burdens, or maybe it's just the coldness of the "sunset sun in the desert" that separates the heart from everything and brings it back to its essence.