旅遊隨想(6)-雨中爬行

I looked at the rows of residential buildings and suddenly felt suffocated. They were not comfortable homes, but cages and restraints. We are all pitiful caged birds, with our wings clipped. Why do these buildings look so ugly and ordinary? The appearance here is terrible. It can be used to reminisce about the past, but that's the worst part. It can only be used to reminisce about the past, and it's a mess.
Someone is bouncing around in my head. The clown's lines keep echoing in my mind. Now he is sitting on the chair on the stage of the studio, tilting his head and waving the gun, telling me, "The happiness and joy of the masses are defined by the elite. You know that those are all deceptive lies. Why do you follow them? Why not burn this city to ashes with me?" Yes, the clown has become Johnny Silverhand.
But they are all fictional characters. Happiness and joy cannot be explained in just a few words. It takes at least five to ten times the amount. This is also the experience of setting the number of particles in the particle swarm algorithm. We need to set five to ten times the number of particles in the original problem dimension, and then continuously experiment and adjust the parameters to obtain a fairly excellent but not necessarily optimal solution if we are lucky. But instead of doing this, why don't I use a binary search approach to find the geometric center of the solution and choose to go to the better side each time? This way is faster, and it's all gambling anyway, no difference.
I walked past rows of residential buildings, and now there is only a wetland park in front of me. This wetland park is the same as other wetland parks, with the same stone paths, wooden paths, plant arrangements, and streetlights. It's a park with no creativity. I started to feel disappointed and questioned why I came here. The sound of car wheels rolling on the asphalt road passed by my ears. I saw the faint double yellow lines in the middle of the road. Why don't I just walk to the middle of the road when the traffic light is on and lie down on the double yellow lines, waiting for two trucks to pass by each other at the same speed, crushing my body into two halves? Then I can experiment to see if I will be reborn in another world or if each half of my body will be reborn in different worlds.
I shook my head and rejected the feasibility of this experiment because trucks are prohibited from passing through this road from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. Besides, I have troubles at work that I need to solve. After I finish wandering, I must return to my life full of despair and problems. Otherwise, I would consider it a loss of my dignity, and I would become the loser I hate the most. But then I thought, I am already here. I escaped from the troubles I faced because I couldn't bear them. I temporarily left the enclosed space that felt like hell. So, I have already lost. Then why should I go back? Is it to play in the playoffs?
I opened my umbrella and walked around the wetland park for a while, jumping over a black puddle. I looked around and felt bored. So, I left this park with only rainwater. I felt that this trip was meaningless. It would have been better if I hadn't gone out. But I didn't listen to myself. I continued to move forward, not knowing where to go. At this moment, my upper body, lower body, and mind reached an agreement. My lower body became a bipedal mobile platform, continuing to move along the riverbank. My upper body started to rotate the umbrella and called upon my eyes to observe the centrifugal motion of the rainwater, notifying my brain to analyze whether centrifugal force is the same as centripetal force, recalling past knowledge of physics. My brain refused to analyze and believed that my lower body should stop walking, allowing the whole body to take off in an inverted position and fly into the sky. Then, the two arm-level thrusters would separate when leaving the Earth's atmosphere, allowing me to fly away from the Earth and reach the end of the universe, where I could find answers to all my questions.
But that's not possible. It's just my dream. And what I discovered is not the answer, but the fact that the Earth is covered by a layer of high-dimensional stuff that looks like soil, with nothing outside. It's a sobering and terrifying fact. I woke up and still had to take the subway back to the screen full of pain and 99+ reminders, maybe I'm not suitable for this job, maybe I should leave. I should go on more long journeys. But in the end, I have to come back here. Or maybe during the long journey, the act of traveling itself will become something new, trapping me in a new hell.
It was at this moment that I realized that it's not the job that is hell, but me. Every time I go out, it's a death in my life, and then a new me, the same as the old me, resurrects from death. I am a decomposer, devouring the remnants of my past, and after metamorphosis, I become a producer. At the moment I go out, I die, leaving my body to the next me. The next me has to eat to survive, and after eating, I become twisted. After metamorphosis, I die, and countless bodies of mine pile up. This complete ecological cycle is life. So, I should fill in all the answers to the question "What role does humanity play in the ecological cycle?" with all the above answers. But there can only be one answer. It's really a shitty question. So, I filled in "consumer."
As a consumer, I sat in a cafe, and the focus of my eyes shifted between the green plants by the window and the sky. I compared my purpose of sitting in the cafe with the purpose of others sitting in the cafe, my purpose of being alive with the purpose of others being alive, my happiness and joy with the happiness and joy of others. But why do I compare? The change in the focus of my eyes can help me maintain some healthy vision, but comparing which vegetable is the best when buying groceries is a ridiculous thing. How can you compare when the standards are different? Should I just eat the cheapest one? But today, I just want to eat fruit. So, with the same reason and impulse, I climbed up the small hill by the road, dirtying my pants and hands, and then peered at all the pedestrians and vehicles passing by between the artificial forests. They couldn't see me, but I could see them clearly.
A primary school student passed by the roadside, not noticing me. If he had noticed me, would he be like me when I was a child, always looking at the hill on the way home, hoping to see the red roof in the leaves of the trees? Maybe one day, he will climb this hill like me, squat in the same position, and observe all the pedestrians and vehicles passing by, just like me today. And then he will meet another primary school student, and the cycle will continue until the destruction of the universe, until things cease to exist. Unfortunately, I don't have a coin in my hand; otherwise, I would definitely drop one here. This way, I would create a branch of fate. This coin and my destiny would correspond to each other. From then on, every death and rebirth, every ecological cycle of life would be associated with the wearing and dusting of this coin.
I stared at an ordinary corner of the road, and my soul returned to the hill I had climbed in the past. Countless past selves overlapped on the hill and the road. I saw many past selves finding the faded pavilion with the red roof on the hill, and then looking down from that pavilion and exchanging glances with countless other selves on the pedestrian path. The gaze of the exchange returned to me at this moment. They all silently asked me, asked themselves, questioned the meaning of this action, and doubted whether this was just rolling stones.
My thoughts began to expand with the wind. I started to pursue the reason that I had never been aware of. Then, on a certain evening sitting in a chair, the wind blew on my face and ran to me. I woke up from the dream of the ecological cycle of life and death. I broke free from the clown and the story of 2077. The wandering me fell to the ground at this moment. I discovered everything in front of me and remembered many things from the past. Countless versions of myself were connected by a timeline that I had never seen before. It's not rolling stones, but a mixture of escape, pursuit, and the blending of life, which turned into the appearance of rolling stones. But it's not rolling stones, just like the fact that everything will return to nothingness and the fact that nothing has meaning are two different things.
Fear and anxiety were dispelled at this moment. I picked up the desire for adventure and encounters that I had never realized before, and at this moment, like a stick, I picked up my wandering self. I stopped the aimless pursuit of meaning and raised the stick, flying like a rocket, breaking through the atmosphere, breaking the terrifying high-dimensional soil, breaking through the end of the universe, and reaching the unknown.