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Pure Life

Writing this to relieve my own worries.

The Island of Purity#

October 27, 2020

The Sail-less Ship#

There is a kind of purity, different from joy and sorrow. This purity does not tempt you like desire, does not distance you like pain, and does not stagnate you like boredom. This purity cannot be sought, but it will surely be encountered.

I have always pursued meaning, trying to set sail. But it was in vain, drifting with the current. In the sea of desires, I gradually became numb to joy and sorrow. This purity makes me linger and never want to leave, haha.

The Fog Warning

This is not a sense of security, because the concepts of safety and danger no longer exist. All the forces that can stir one's heart are kept calm. This should be it!

Above, there is not much soul. Let me write something more appropriate.

The Black Night Lighthouse#

Carl Blechen - Stormy Sea with Lighthouse

In this world full of troubles, fatigue, and various positive or negative aspects, I need a lighthouse in the dark night to guide me and give me hope. This lighthouse is lonely, but it shines even brighter. It is the epitome of a pure life.

Others may see the lights of the city, or perhaps the lighthouse in the daytime. Who knows?

Perhaps it is because I only have a lighthouse in the vast dark night that I yearn for a pure life. Or is it because I yearn for a pure life that I only have a lighthouse? In any case, I want a pure life.

Desire for Life#

The Old Fisherman

This is a kind of purity, even though he is dead.

Hermit. There is a saying, "A small hermit hides in the wild, a medium hermit hides in the city, and a great hermit hides in the court." Even hermits have different levels, truly "the mills of God grind slowly," haha.

Writing, searching for the power within, giving people the desire for life. There are many things I want to record, things that move me, moments of sudden realization, moments of love... but none of them are necessary to keep myself awake and find the lighthouse. The evaluation of a hermit's merits and faults is only the consideration of outsiders. This does not conflict with the hermit's own purpose.

Yesterday, I watched a very loving movie. There was no complicated plot, no cruel scenes, only pure white snow and the changing seasons. Most importantly, it was full of love, very pure.

The Gear of Leviathan#

November 2, 2020

Toronto Rolling Mills

What reasons have led me to this filthy life? I despise this way of questioning. Arguments? Deception?

I enjoy watching "Animal World." For survival and reproduction, one lives from hand to mouth. The brutal struggle for survival makes me feel not the cruelty, but the wildness and meaning. This is the narrowest definition of survival—to live on and let our children live on. It is the most realistic and purest form.

What is my current state? I have food, clothing, shelter, and transportation (the basic necessities of life).

Compared to animals in the natural world, I can survive. But I cannot have a pure life like animals do. Because while I have obtained the means to maintain the basic necessities, I have also incurred a lifetime of debt. I have become the lowest slave in this social structure.

I often wonder, since I have the conditions for a pure life, why can't I have it? Haha.

It's like being in a swamp, wanting to leave, but finding myself sinking deeper and eventually being swallowed by the swamp, becoming a part of it. Society attracts a person from the moment they are born. Some people enjoy this process, while others try to break free from the shackles by exerting greater effort and working harder, but they all end up unable to extricate themselves. When I realized that I was trapped, I dared not move, waiting, waiting...

Not poor enough to disregard everything, not wealthy enough to survive in the wild. No footing, no sky above. No death, no survival.

As a gear of Leviathan, where do I belong? And where do you all belong?

Distant Lone Star#

November 18, 2020, after a cold rainy night

When a person comes into the world, even though their eyes are open, it is still pitch black. The choices we will face in the future were not laid out for us at that time. We were left in a state of confusion, like a lonely galaxy in the universe. Not only do we ask the heavens, but also where is the path? And more importantly, where are we? Compared to a lighthouse, humans are more like being in a void, and a distant lone star is more appropriate.

But the inexplicable "guidance" allows us to find infinite possibilities in the void. Just like a lighthouse, it is the gospel...

Lying Flat and Hermit#

July 11, 2021, after waking up on a summer night

I am not good at socializing. When interacting with others, I often feel that my words are not natural enough. Conversations with others are often filled with tension. I often find my own thoughts ridiculous, and others often tell me the same. It is difficult to persist in what I believe is right, and even more difficult is questioning the path I have taken.

Float Among the Hermit Scholars of "Fishermen, after Jing Hao" — Google Arts & Culture

I have always disliked people involved in psychology. When I hear what they say, I always feel that there is something wrong with me. They say that the reason for my suffering is that I did not do what I should have done at a specific stage in life. Actually, I think what they say makes sense, but it doesn't stop me from disliking them. A few days ago, when I didn't feel like reading, I happened to come across Chekhov's "The Death of a Government Clerk," which tells the story of a junior clerk accidentally spitting on a general and then trying various methods to apologize, eventually angering the general who originally didn't mind and causing him to die from exhaustion. This little story is powerful and so realistic. Since I have already offended many things in this world and have not done what I should have done, there is only this left.

Recently, the term "lying flat" has become popular, and the mainstream criticizes it. I speculate that "lying flat" and "hermit" are related. No one talks about hermits anymore, and the threshold for being a hermit has become higher. It is a bit difficult to hide in the wild. Many "lower hermits" now seem decadent and strange in the environment of "upper-middle hermits." They end up with the reputation of "lying flat." I also like lying flat, perhaps because it allows me to live a pure life.

What Makes a Home?#

August 26, 2024, night

Articles are written according to the times, and songs and poems are created according to events. This pure life has been forgotten in a corner for a long time due to its fragmented and weak logical structure. But articles do not need logic, or rather, our actions are causal. Because I often think of a pure life, I never forget this piece, even though it is trivial.

Today, I am still contemplating the relationships in life, and I happen to think of a pure life. Not all lives have a relationship with each other, only lives belonging to the same level of existence have a relationship. A pure life seeks to minimize relationships with lives of the same level. Its approach is not to eliminate, but to distance. Lives should not meet. It seeks to establish relationships with more lives, rather than establishing stronger connections within the same level of existence.

If individualism is about understanding our differences from the world, then reducing relationships with lives of the same level is to create a realistic foundation for our original individualism, returning to our true selves, that is, "me."

Fleeting homesickness, I have read this article, it's good, although I have forgotten its content.

I used to think I had a home, so I always wanted to go home; but when I returned home, I realized that this is not home. Home is not in others, home is in oneself. I am my own home, a pure life is my home, it is me.

Faint life relationships, like me and all those who read this text, we have never met and will never meet. This is my writing, and it is also your writing. The relationship between us may only be a weak chemical transmission in a synapse of a neuron, but no one can deny the traces left by a flying bird.

May you all be able to return home.

Claude Monet (French - Wheatstacks, Snow Effect, Morning

A Pure Life, reconstructed on the night of August 26, 2024, just before dawn, due to the need for life relationships.

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