Part of my recent melancholy comes from reading “1587, A Year of No Significance”. The helplessness of history is the helplessness of reality.

Everywhere are shackles and walls; the meaning of reality and the present becomes elusive and vague.

What is the meaning of being alive? Is the future worth seeking? What kind of life do I want to live?

Where is my value?!

Should I try moving to a new city? I have scheduled an interview for next Wednesday.

This article was originally written in Chinese and translated into English by AI. Please pardon any errors in expression.