An essay written while listening to this song.

It has been a long time since I opened my writing software. When did I stop writing?

I haven't read many new books, haven't met many new people, or done many new things, so naturally, I have nothing new to write about—these are the excuses I make for not writing.

In fact, I become quite awkward when I write. I worry about what I write being seen by others, yet I fear that what I write will go unnoticed. I worry that my words are merely an oversharing of my inner self, that they might inspire someone, or conversely, that they might make someone feel disgusted.

The world is a vast ocean, and people are islands floating upon it. We communicate and interact using the parts above the surface. We live and move forward using the parts beneath the surface. When I realized that everyone's submerged part is complex, profound, and unique, I began to fear the act of sharing.

Ninety-five percent of people in the world are moving forward well, carrying their inner questions and their profound thoughts. Their islands are lush and green. So, does someone who stops to think lack a trait necessary for life on the sea?

I consider myself a normal person; I grew up quite normally from childhood to adulthood. I have watched those passionate fires, hoping they would ignite the light buried within me. But, thinking about it calmly, this is actually a bit abnormal, isn't it? Just as a normally developing infant does not need a ventilator to jump-start their lungs. Thus, I helplessly admit that perhaps I am not passionate enough.

I quite enjoy watching MediaStorm; they are full of passion. In last year's annual summary, Tim said:

Pessimists are always right, but optimists are always moving forward.

So I thought, stop worrying about those parts that keep sinking into the depths of the sea; just start moving, start running, start blending into the crowd, and fit into the continent. Watch the sunrise and sunset, see the snow-capped mountains and the aurora, jump into the waves at the beach in autumn; go to work and get married, argue and make concessions, and repeat the same conversations from last year during the Spring Festival. Accept that as time passes, we will all disintegrate and sink to the bottom of the sea.

Accept that, in fact, the bottom of the sea is empty.

There are all kinds of people in the world, living all kinds of lives. Although there are always voices telling them that this is rebellious or maverick, there don't seem to be any walls blocking the way once you keep walking. However, it's hard to say whether such a beautiful world is a comfort or a blow. It would be nice if, like migrating fish or geese flying south, we were told, "Go forward, that is the front." A world without a correct answer has instead become an obstacle. It is as if I have become free because of the emptiness.

When I was once drifting with the ocean current, the tour guide was waving a small red flag in front, saying, "The next stop is university; the specific stops are also in the guidebooks given to you. There are quite a few choices for the later stops, so please try to choose the ones you are more interested in." People kept leaving the tour group, running in directions not marked on the guidebook.

Will moving forward in such a given direction cause me to miss more and better scenery? But:

The wonders and extraordinary sights of the world are often found in dangerous and remote places where few people reach; therefore, those without determination cannot reach them.

Clearly, I am neither a person of determination nor a follower of the crowd. So I drifted away from the crowd and did not run to more distant places; I just stood where I was like a lost person.

This ocean kindly buoys even an island that stops and stands still. Even though the waves urge me to move forward, the path ahead is vast and boundless, and the ground beneath my feet is empty.

Finally, a line from the ending of the child's essay in the movie Her Story:

So I no longer fantasize, I only think.

It is hard to answer whether one should fantasize first, think first, or move forward first. I hope that if I have children in the future, they won't throw this difficult question at me. I also hope that I can figure it out before they ask me.