In animated films, you often see a thrilling scene where characters are running desperately, with the road behind them crumbling, revealing many monsters' tongues and large hands reaching up from the cracked ground, trying to engulf everything on the surface.
This is how I feel right now, a sense of speed and struggle forced by tragedy. If I don't imagine that as I run, there will be flowers blooming along the way, willow leaves swaying, the water reflecting the mountains, all will be doomed.
Because the most frightening thing about this run is that the path I tread becomes a memory, a part of me. If the hesitant and nostalgic nerves start to flicker, the future and the past will disappear together.
The day before yesterday was a perfect day because my curiosity occupied every moment. Yesterday, many cracks appeared in time because I talked to people I deeply cherished in the past and lightly ventured into deep waters with new acquaintances under the streetlights, most of which were formed by the past. The reflection of the past and the future makes people fearful.
Today, the past is threatening me. How could I possibly accept such a threat? Fuck off.
I'm just very sad, the intimacy of the past has now become its means. From disappointment to despair, I fell all the way down, bloodied and broken.
Fortunately, I still have friends around me. Fortunately, there are many important things to do. Like the person I deeply cherished in the past said to me, even in extreme pessimism, you can still find happiness.
But still, I hope that one day I can break through the linear dimension of time control with my own limitations.