What you see is not the world.
The happiness of a wise man is partly safe, without asking others to know; but the joy of ordinary people is thrilling and moving, and they can’t wait to be told. The wrath of the cunning man is a dark tide, covered with a sweet smile; the wrath of the upright man is an open flame, which is unobstructed.
An expression, summing up an emotion, turns out to be unreliable. The same is the joy, anger, sorrow, and joy, but also people are different.
Pain, or the eve of blooming. Joy, too much like a fleeting gust of wind. Anger is a misfired passion. Worry is mostly just a redundant and unhelpful thing. Missing is a moonlight full of water, full when the moon rises, and receding when the sun rises. Panicked, the duckweed in the waves suddenly arrived, and suddenly it was far away. Happiness is not a destination, but daily homework. It is not a rush to happiness, but a step into happiness...
Emotions are not all truth. Where does happiness come from, where does anger arise, where does grief dissipate, there is no context, and the emotions you read are just one-sided words.
A person is always playing with loneliness, and he will enjoy himself when he is lonely; when he is backlashed by loneliness, he will be eager to talk and listen. Talk about loneliness and discoloration? Not at all.
Concepts cannot be used to recognize the living and free world. Just like a label, it cannot be used to decipher a lively person.
Passionate singing and hysterical anger are just performances. No matter how tall you stand, you will crawl on the ground, rubbing the mountains, rivers, and fireworks. People who have been struggling in sorrow for a long time will also clenched their fists, looking at the dawn.
This is the real world.
