Illustration：COLN
Translation：Unk
Original Article：致那些被捏造的我們，其二
Pure joy is jubilant, yet sad backstory
will make its own color murky. However, there will be something fresh if we
focus on the "JOY" itself, devoting our emotions digging into it
berserk. We remind us subjectively that things always exist before receiving
any attention; as the member of the cosmos, you need to comprehend the
smallness of yourself.
Nevertheless, we're human beings, observing
this whole cosmos with life and perspective of humanity. This is the fun only
belongs to us, no matter how speechless the cosmos is. Not long ago I played
the game "Journey" by accident, which profoundly helps me to
recognize something unsure. This game makes me feel that life is a trip, and
homecoming is the final rest. In recent I ultimately realize that, in the short
period of time I've experienced, the ones I hardly forget is every kind of
leaving. With the fading of something familiar or not behind the curtain of
life, I'm following through the dark alley of backstage, filled with tons of
trivial remembrances, waking slowly toward the unknown.
In the end, with the things we left, whose
legend will become the authorized history or pseudohistory? Everything is the
material of life to me though. It is not that easy to block people from collecting,
cogitating and creating. Aren't we all enjoying forming the satisfying shape
with the materials we have collected everywhere?
Forming a satisfying self, for instance.
In fact, this is quite amazing to see the
past self with emotions coming up. Instead of dividing each self from different
dimensions, we always have so much time to explain ourselves or the reason of
"why now?" Every collected past seems like a pile of limitless
documents in the house, and all of a sudden we just realize that every air we
breathe in has been examined and prepared. Every moment we live on the immediateness
of collected history.
Past has weighted mysteriously before us seeing
how far the future goes.
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