"Tickets?"

Date of the original text: 2019.10.30 "The original text is at the associated works below"

Date: 2021.12.25

Location: Taipei City

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After resigning, I look back at the moments I wrote down, and it seems that I have returned to the days when I first entered the organization. Only then did I remember the self who was full of boundless curiosity about the world outside the military and couldn't wait to quickly realize his dream.

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Seeing my youth at that time seems to symbolize that I seem to have grown up. But when I grow up, it is not that I am not curious about the world. It is only after a few falls that I slowly begin to learn how to walk steadily and slowly, rather than rampage.

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In the past, I always wanted to gain the trust of others quickly, so I worked hard to do those methods that I found useful, but it was not until I walked through it that I found that I could be trusted. What I really wanted was not hard work, but willingness to be honest. But the willingness to be honest is not easy in itself, and may require some level of effort.

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Only then did I remember the process of learning to gain trust. I was always obsessed with seeing the other person's "true self", so I kept trying to study various methods to confirm whether it was true or not.

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But perhaps there is never a so-called "true", after all, those true and false are defined by themselves after all. The only truth that exists may be only what happens at the moment, even if it is fleeting.

"Am I being honest with myself every time I write it down?"

Even so, after writing one after another, I still ask myself this.

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At the beginning of writing, I may have cared about the truth and falsehood, the burden of "should" and "needs" that I was dragged by, and what I wanted was to find my true self. But these seem to be their own words, and it seems that there will never be an answer.

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Perhaps the "honesty" expected at this moment is no longer true or false, but wants to capture those moments that once existed.

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To be honest or not, the answer is always known only to you. Confirming the honesty seems to be able to confirm the existence of the moment, but more often it is not known whether it is really "honest". Perhaps that is why there is so much uncertainty about existence.

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Probably because of this, I long for connection, and the answers that I can't find myself may be found in others. Two years ago, I couldn't let others walk in the door, maybe I thought the answer could be found in myself.

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"I was never only myself, but everything was myself."

I don't know where I saw a sentence. I didn't understand it at first, but now I seem to understand a little bit.