Today is the fifth day of August, and I am still in this city which is said to be the largest city in China. I am still searching my goals of life-what should they be and what are they about? It seems that my destination is still roaming outside of my door of mind.
Life likes lonely hungry hunting hearts. That's my idea about life, from a decade ago. Actually, this forms my life style. I am a man who likes travelling; however, I have to be staying at one place, to be exactly, I have to be in a room of an apartment. A big city, a small room is here for a traveler of life. Ridiculous?
Sometimes, I want to move again to have a peaceful life in a place where there are mountains and rivers, and more important, it must be a place suitable for living. This is my ideal home, and I had the idea to buy or build one house at this kind of place. Nevertheless, I have to or I choose from the ridiculous choices for all the reasons to stay in this BIG city. I am not in a dilemma and I can move on or choose to stay at a nice place that I want to. All in all, I am staying here, living a lonely and enclosed life.
I seldom move around but for the reason to buy something, food, vegetable, some items for my wife and I. These are the excuses, and I am making good use of them. Apart from that, I am reading extensively on any subjects, such as literature, medicine, science and technology, arts, music, history, and so on, anything under the sun. Reasonably, I have a rich inner word, but it is not the case. I still find the empty inside of me. I am stuffing things into my mind, and it seems that my mind is a hole with no bottom. When I throw a stone of work by a famous writer, it offers no echo at all. So, what I find there is emptiness. This is the horrible thing in life. The more I read, the more I find that I am still far away from my destination. Then, I walk on desperately without knowing when the ending of the journey is.
Now, I turned off all the lights, and the only light comes from the outside of the window, where there are lights from the construction sites, and the light of this laptop screen. In dark, I saw my fingers moving, or better called “flying” on the keyboard to type these words out to leave it here or to leave it to my memory of my emptiness. Life is my life, and road is my road. I remember one of the poems by Robert Forest, called The Road Not Taken. Maybe, I am on the path wanted steps, and I taste the hardship of a pioneer in this way. Or, I am foolish enough not to notice the road sign and go astray. I am not sure about it now. This has to be answered later in my life, when I am old enough to know if it is the right path. Possibly, I have the wisdom to know what happened are good for me. This kind of after wisdom is also wisdom, right? Just make this kind of joke to be a way to kill time with my shadow here.
I turned to the wall against my back, and found my shadow there, much larger than I could expect. I am being amplified. This can reflect my life, and things are not always as they really are. Can it? I doubt it, too.
