I have always wanted to write something for myself, without being sensational or mean. Because entering and returning to the world is relatively shallow, and I have never followed what others say, so I write as I like to remember some things, which is a bit astringent.

"Humble" - Chapter 1

What is rubbed in the hand is a glimmer of light, a weak beating, but it is invisible and separated from the outside world by a virtual cover. I never ran away, nor did I have any thoughts of escaping. Life and death, written or unwritten destiny, let the clouds float! Things that don't live long make people pity, and only hatred and refutation are left. This is called humbleness, and they are despicable in their bones, but they remain unmoved. If there are earth-bound spirits, perhaps, in this moment in the future, the fireworks will be warm, but the next second they will be dull, without light or shadow, and turn into gray smoke. After blowing, there will be no trace.

All things originally have a spirit. This spirit seems to be alive but not alive, and seems to be shaped but not shaped. Elusive. It's a cold night, longing for the moistening of rain and dew. These people are not as happy as beggars. They knock on bowls to eat, light lamps to eat, and blow lamps to sleep. They have no food and clothing to rely on, but they are content with the situation. And what about you? What is imprisoned is the body and mind, what is cut out is the heart and flesh, and what is consumed is the soul. The soul is the pillar of a person, the belief and reason for a person's survival, the species and the other, dependent on each other, once separated, never human. People without souls are called humble living dead.

Maybe I was taking things too seriously. Love and darkness delight in the humble. This may be called the attitude of the strong towards the weak, which makes them happy that they look up to themselves. In this world, there is no place for such despicable people to exist. If a person lives with a silver spoon in his mouth, he will be worshiped by thousands of people. Later, when he was killed and his family was defeated, he chased south and north, and he really became a defeated bandit. The talents of the past are just like the clouds of the past. They lived like a lower class person. So what? They will accuse God of being unfair, but who can hear their curses? The world is a country with rules. When they encounter strength, they become stronger. No one sympathizes with the weak, and they have no time to sympathize. They are sluggish, living in the past, living in the past, and living in fantasy. In the end, they also became humble people. This is the road to humility. Yes, it is the most ideal way of life for humble people. Because no one knows, if they are deprived of even this thought, will they still have the courage to live? If they are humble, they will not be brave. That's human nature, I'm just speculating.

May you sleep on your mat, and be enlightened by the breeze!