Private Codex· Realm

"Man, who lives in an illusion, thinks he knows what he wants, but in fact he wants what others want." - Fromm, "Escape from Freedom"

Photography 丨 Xie Danru

Author 丨 Xie Danru

Source 丨 Last Meter of Sunshine

1.

I wander in the depths of human nature, I don't stop walking in cause and effect, where I am has never been a point I care about. It is always in a certain time and space segment, staying or walking, forward or backward, but it is just a circle drawn by itself. Arriving somewhere before he realized it, he didn't dare to think about it, he thought about it with trepidation, and he was careful to say that he couldn't understand why he had to go like this.

Nearly thirty years of time, it seems long, but it feels short. I have no concept of time, and sometimes I wonder, can those who cling to time really exchange the favor of time? Whether there is more time, or could have produced something else, it just so happens that the other party only cares about time. But what do you care about when you care about time? Life is ultimately a matter of not being able to start over.

Those who like to compare, they use others to measure their own length, harvest, good or bad, right and wrong, good and bad, difference, but how many results can be satisfactory to themselves? Less than the top, more than the bottom, compared to compare, as if to put on a piece of clothing, is it to protect against the cold or to dress up? But how long can that dress be worn? Some people may wear it for a lifetime, some people change it from time to time, and some people wear it for three or four years and get bored - I can't say who is happier, if it is just for a dress, "the emperor's new clothes", will there be a child who will come out to remind it?

It is better to say that he is not familiar with the world, to say that he is naïve, to say that he does not understand the complexity of the adult world. I've grown tired of being an adult all these years. How many people get lost in this non-existent new outfit?

My father used to say that people fight for breath, they have to fight for breath. My mother said a lot of bits and pieces, but she never talked about big truths, and she said some common words, thoughtful words, and blessings, most of which I can't remember. And some people, relatives, friends, lovers, colleagues... There are many people who have been in contact with them in their lives, and most of them have no contact, whether it is because the feelings have faded or whether they have met more important people. After all, is the family family, and is it also the most important person? That's why they are so worried, over and over again, tirelessly, and their center of gravity always seems to be able to turn around and return to themselves. Is this an illusion?

You know, when people grow up, especially after they are independent, whether passive or active, you will always learn a lot of realities that you originally hated but eventually had to accept, or who can distinguish between reality and grasp reality? It is not easy for more people to accept and adapt. Therefore, we have all learned to "see people talk about people, and see ghosts talk about ghosts." Perhaps our parents do not realize, or we do not realize that when we come into contact with each other, we are no longer just speaking on our behalf, but an identity, a relationship, a degree of estrangement, a force that we have not understood, arranging each of us.

However, we will hardly doubt their authenticity. We are so concerned with ourselves, so calculating about personal gains and losses, that our gaze is always too far or too close, and many, many things have long been deeply rooted, deep in the spinal cord, and deep in our historical genes. Maybe it's the environment we live in, it's civilization, it's society, it's education, it's the big and unclear things, they're the source of our thoughts, and we don't dare to uncover them easily.

In the final analysis, love is a kind of fear, because of the fear of loss, so tightly dragged. If you can't put down too much, then you can love, fight, break through, struggle, and move forward for these sake. Because I am afraid of being hurt, I love so carefully and carefully care for every emotion. It is also because we are afraid of letting others be hurt, so we are so suffering from loss and loss, looking forward and backward, I dare not easily entrust my heart to pay, and because of love and fear, we dare not sincerely face ourselves, do not dare to be ourselves, so everyone wears a mask to play their own role on various occasions, and the part that belongs to them is occupied little by little. Some people feel full, false fullness; some people feel empty, but also false emptiness; some people feel broken, fragmented selves and others are broken.

2.

I was strolling, wandering through the dark depths of human nature, tightening my heartstrings, but my steps so steady, because I was staying at the moment. I feel what is around me, it is the various things of the situation, it is my reflection and illusion, it is a false illusion and a mirror image. I look at everything in the world, everything in the world reflects my mind, and all kinds of things in the world that are not real, or that are false to each other. I can't prove myself, I can't prove the truth of this kind, in fact I don't need to prove myself, I don't need this kind of truth. Every time the truth sheds its face in front of me, I know that the so-called truth is never how I see or think; every time I mistakenly think that I understand myself a few points, and something new affects me, I know that the so-called understanding of myself is just an illusion, a historical view.

So I looked at the lost crowd, and I was afraid to step into any kind of reality easily for fear of equal loss. I allow everything to be truly staged, to evolve, to shine, to wither, to wither. I've always been where I am, and I'm always pushed by change and I don't know where to go.

I don't dwell on cause and effect, I don't have to be trapped anymore. But if a person is not trapped, then everything that follows must be explored by himself. This no-man's land, such as loneliness, loneliness, loneliness. A person, late at night, maybe in the early hours of the morning, or a moment of leisure in the afternoon, or after a full day, or a dry heart, or a lack of, I always want to say something.

Say what? With whom? What's there to say?

Once spoken, there is a response or no response; once spoken, it is parsed by misunderstandings and prejudices; once spoken, how can those who believe in cause and effect understand?

It has been said that "being misread is the destiny of the expressor". I don't believe that. It's just that sentient beings are too busy with their own trifles, with their own historical experience, inertial thinking, subjective and narrow personal feelings, and after being shaped and transformed understanding, they are too busy, they are too anxious, and their attention to themselves and others is never too shallow. Fatalism, in the final analysis, is a cage tailored for the mind that wants to be simple and simple; causality exists only in response to their needs.

I've tried to get into it, and in the end I envy their gains, their stability, their steadfastness, and their simplicity. However, in the end, I could not adapt to them as much, and I was out of place and at a loss. At the end of the day, I can only be myself.

Learning is to use, use will promote learning, the more you learn, the more you can use, however, few people think: learning or using, why is it?

Why can't I fit in, is it just because I don't know why? No, I have always known that I never want much, but to see and not to see, and the more I cover my eyes, because I am used to observing with my eyes, the more I want to see. But when I really saw it, I found that it wasn't the same thing at all. The cage, the predicament, the self-trapping, the so-called stability and adaptation, the dark depths of human nature, it turns out that they are not simple, steady, stable, or peaceful harvest.

"Life can't be repeated, so it's pointless, right?"

Those so-called references are just a measuring instrument for those who do not like to think, do not dare to take the initiative to explore, dare not sincerely face themselves, and dare not sincerely be themselves.

How unbreakable are the clothes, the mind, the body, including this cage, and all the needs and productions, including the materials! Is it really unbreakable? I want to give it a try.

"Rise up and strike the bell at a tall building, and the unbelieving world is deaf."

I want to try, are sentient beings born because of their own ignorance, or do they see sentient beings as sentient beings because of my ignorance?