Chasing the Past

Stories in the world are always pulled between the sinking of despair and the rising of hope, but the shackles of fate always follow. I am a scavenger hiding in time, not asking where I came from or where I am going, just picking up the fragments of fate scattered in the world. They may be the silence of the young man huddled in the firelight, the tenderness and desolation half-hidden under the mask, the hope for new life embroidered stitch by stitch in the monastery, or the roaring sea breeze carrying obsession and adventure on the whaling ship. These fragments seem to be lonely and helpless, but in fact they are tightly entangled with the threads of "survival" and "redemption". Some people change their names in pain and break free from the shackles of the past; some chase giant whales on the ocean, burning their desperate persistence; just like those souls struggling in the mire, they will eventually follow the glimmer of light and be born into the sun. There is no need to discover the identity of the narrator, nor to trace the origin of the fragments. Just feel it calmly - in every fragment of destiny, there is a soul wrestling with destiny, breaking out of the cocoon in the struggle, blooming in the desolation, this is the most authentic appearance of life.