Strangers on the MRT

Everyone on the MRT is a stranger to you.

During the morning commute, a short-haired man wearing a white shirt, dark blue and white suit pants and visually estimated to be in his thirties walked into the MRT carriage. The man is neither tall nor fat nor thin. Judging from his body shape, he vaguely feels that there is someone exercising, perhaps jogging or something. The man is carrying a black shoulder bag and a sports watch on his left wrist. There are two woven bracelets under the sports watch, one is plain and the other is more colorful.

After the man found a place to stand, he closed his eyes. At first glance, it looks like he is resting due to fatigue, but the man will open his eyes before and after each stop to check whether it will block the movement of other passengers. If someone needs to enter or exit, he will follow the flow of the crowd and try to move lightly. Go to the next comfortable station.

Everyone on the MRT was wearing masks, so it was impossible to see the man's facial features. But in short, there seems to be nothing special about men. Except he didn't take out the phone in his left pocket from start to finish.

The man seemed a little out of place in the group of passengers in the carriage full of focused swiping phones.

That man is me.

As a creator, I often wonder, what do we need in this era? And what can I give?

Every morning when I take the MRT, like everyone else, I immerse myself in my own world, not just scrolling through my phone, but watching my breath and thoughts. When Vipassana is not going too well, I observe the people around me.

At some point, I always wondered if I might have been misplaced, placed on chronological coordinates that were too early or too late. When I was on the MRT, I looked at the gestures of people burying their heads in their respective worlds. On the screen there are people's persistence, their life focus, and their curiosity to explore various things. Maybe there really is a world out there, just so worth staring at. But before I walk into the office in the morning and sit down at the computer screen, I just want to focus on myself, not the world.

I have seen several elderly people in the MRT, just like me, just sitting or standing quietly, not doing anything. And I am more curious about those people whose behavior patterns are more similar to mine, what are they thinking about in their hearts, are they thinking the same thing as me? On the other hand, it is not difficult to spy into the hearts of people who are swiping their phones. Just by looking at their phone a little, you can tell they're playing a game, messaging, or watching a community.

Creators always have many contradictions. Even if you want to deliberately avoid yourself and become a part of the fast food culture. Even if I already understand that too much information will not make life better, it will only make the thoughts flashing through my head more cumbersome, and I feel more and more that the Internet is like refined candy. The right amount can bring happiness, and the excess will make the whole person. weightlessness.

But at the same time, in order to increase the visibility of creations and understand the thoughts of people in the Internet generation, it is still necessary to constantly roam in and interact and connect with people socially. You don't know what the seeds you planted will one day blossom and bear fruit. So you can only keep creating and wait until one day it can be related to your livelihood. Before that, you can only believe in your own value and walk the path you have chosen.

This may make me look old-fashioned and out of place, but I'm sure there are still many souls in this world who, like me, genuinely want a slow, steady, long-term life. And if you, like that, can gently pick up the signal I send, I want to think hard day and night, the time about the meaning of various things will have its glorious value.

When the memory of the times is mottled and the flesh becomes empty, it doesn't matter whether the will is mine or not. If you don't mind, please accept the light of consciousness trickled down by this stranger.