We Are All Sick

There is a rumor circulating on the Internet: We are all sick. That's right. Literary men as poets are patients with schizophrenia to a certain extent, just like the talented men of all ages who have been influenced by Confucianism and Taoism, and even like every ordinary person among us: sometimes they want to help the world, and sometimes they want to be alone; sometimes they think, "I won't serve stupid leaders anymore," and sometimes they want to "work hard and become a deputy director." Whether poets or literati, they were all once living people, with multiple dimensions and faces, contradictory to real life, just like the real us. The diligent pursuit of an official career has neutralized a bit of aloofness, and people with "split personality" are more lively and lovable.