What is the cruelest thing? When we wake up in the morning, dark prophecies pour out of our minds for no reason, or we recall nightmares, or death that we cannot escape no matter what, even if we all say "I will not be afraid of them." However, its real arrival is a whisper of despair. We can never escape it. We can only wear it and be fooled by this huge fog. What is a beautiful thing? In the valley or deep stream over there, a little flower in a hollow, it looks so ordinary, but when we see it, we usually stop to admire it, or in a breakfast shop in a small town or even a city, we can't see that smell, But it seems that it has turned into a cloud of smoke, and we have visualized it in our imagination. The shopkeeper's greeting is also so ordinary, but when we see this cloud of smoke, we are also intoxicated.

Would the poet of yesterday go your way? Then he wrote a paragraph: "Today's shoe prints, have you been cluttered by the pedestrians passing by? Yesterday's sun, has your color turn crimson and white?" Obviously, you have also left your shoe prints, will you be happy? Or is it a kind of sadness? I made it messy, but my behavior was recorded, will the shoe prints be sad? You start to think, at this time The clouds on the horizon become gray, thunder explodes in the clouds, rolls to the ground, and then soars into the sky. The shoe prints on the ground disappear, but you will still think about it, it is still alive, and the shoe prints are a trace in your mind. A wooden boat, it was so fragile, beaten by the rain and cried bitterly, it disappeared here, but it is so powerful, whether it is the poet or you, you have written it down, thought of it, and the poet too, then Is it dead? You continue to think, and so does the poet. This world brings you countless thoughts, and it is the most interesting. The world begins to move forward with you, and it is also interesting. It becomes various things in your mind. What kind of appearance does it have? Is it moving forward? Do you see it motionless on the ground? Did it sit down? The spear and shield are like thesis and paradox, existence and disappearance. It shocks you, and the poet also, So do philosophers, physicists, theologians, and eminent monks, so do they. These together are reality, it is the most cruel, but also the most beautiful; it is the most fair, but also the most biased; it is the most open, but also the most restrictive; it is right, it is also wrong, it is a duality. If the great and almighty God is a trinity, then reality is a duality. Reality is the most confusing, but there are countless knights who stand up to face it. Will you face it or avoid it? Is it unbeatable? Perhaps only God knows. Will it be "rewritten" by countless people? Yes, we rewrite it every time we breathe. Can I destroy it? Perhaps we can open a novel and see a super villain who can shatter reality into pieces of glass, close the book, and we see it again, the super villain has rewritten it, and the villain realizes that he has rewritten the reality of something, and reality is still alive.

At this moment, I saw Prometheus stealing the sacred fire. People urgently need light and enlightenment. He loves mankind, he stole the sacred fire, and Zeus got quite irate, so he was pecked by an eagle. It's like a knight charging at a windmill. Even if he will be punished, God is still the main god, and he gave him the reality of punishment. But people saw the flame, it was so warm, and when they approached it, it was so hot. After taking it, Hercules killed the eagle, and then we opened a new story.

Reality is uncertain, but there will be people walking in this uncertainty. Someone got cancer, but he recovered in a day. Someone was rich, but went bankrupt due to various decision-making mistakes. Before that, they didn't know this uncertainty. In the countryside, a man at home harvested what he had planted in the fall. He couldn't accurately predict whether there would be a disaster this year.

Life is a journey, walking towards countless elements of reality, and these elements of reality are not fixed. But people enjoy its beauty more, such as... flowers, and warmth. When a person falls, in order not to be tripped by the stone under his feet, the descendants removed it. Countless cycles repeated, we ultimately did not overcome reality, but the stones in front of us are fewer, and we have overcome it again, even if it's rare. Those people, or the trees and flowers in it, insects and birds, beasts and fish, are all candles in the vast and unknown reality. They are very small, but they emit a faint light. In this dark plain, the faint light emits compassion and light. People dig in the unknown, weave history with love, and then record the long march of thousands of heroes by poets. We are all travelers, not knowing how far we have gone. Countless candles are taken away by reality, and countless souls holding the water of darkness rush to each candle, extinguishing their only flame. But people still walk, and all animals follow the light. No matter how slow the world crawls, this is still the gallop of people.

Don't be afraid of it, you can say to reality: Come on, my enemy; Don't be hostile to it, you can say to reality: Come on, my friend. You are the hero in the Long March of a Thousand Miles, don't forget the candle in your hand. When the tide turns, life will come in the four seasons of a person.