For me, writing poetry feels like a weak, soft patch job. My life doesn’t need a gentle bandage like that. 回复
I hate all light and anything beautiful. I want to snuff out the sun and drag the whole world into a hopeless night. There’s no ending, just slow, grinding suffering. 回复
Nothing is permitted to be raised anew; nothing remains worthy of faith. 回复
I think the documentary I watched yesterday(finding Vivian maier )lingered within me, leading me to dream of the past and of those I will never see again. 回复
Let's fight against the so-called "automated mode" together in our life, and don't give up even if one of us gets lost.I will always remember this.(On my birthday, I got a precious gift from kevin.) ... 回复
I’m writing just for myself, the platform is only a place to keep it. 回复
Mastodon is really a great platform. You can edit posts of up to 20,000 characters, which feels very free and comfortable for writing. I’ll keep updating my diary both here and over there. 回复
Over the past six months, English has far outweighed Chinese in my speech, yet the feeling is pleasant. A mind confined to a single language grows thin; it needs the nourishment of other tongues. 回复
For me, writing poetry feels like a weak, soft patch job. My life doesn’t need a gentle bandage like that. It should be more like barbed wire cutting into flesh, digging for bones in the trash, and watching the man next to Christ die for no reason, like a coin toss. That’s what life looks like to you: a heap of scrap and a soul that laughs at trying to build anything from it. Once you pass that point, nothing can really stand in this abandoned world. Nothing is meant to be built ... ...
My plans for 2026: 1.Two provincial journal papers and the first form of a C-level one, a pragmatic necessity for completing my doctorate. 2.To pursue knowledge with true depth and flavor, weaving together Spanish, Japanese, and English, continuing my work in the philosophy of technology, and remaining faithful to writing in English. 3.To keep recording my dreams and daily reflections, reaching one million words. 4.To converse with interesting souls and resist the urge to close myself of ... ...
My doctoral advisor once shared a thought that deeply moved me: on the first floor, when someone shouts at you, the noise feels unbearable. On the tenth floor, you can still hear them, though only faintly. But on the hundredth floor, all that remains is the beauty of the view.
I was in the car and suddenly looked up to see gorgeous fireworks outside the window. It was so unexpected and beautiful. My first instinct was to take a photo to show you, but the car was moving too fast, so I only managed to snap this one in a rush.