Author Yuxi Yue
I don't know... just can't find the meaning of life... seems nothing is meaningful but necessary...
Proust sat in a rocking chair, suddenly turning his head to ask, "What season is it now?" or "Did we add fennel to the stew last night?"A shiver runs down your spine, not knowing how to answer.
How do you respond to someone who has never had their life constrained by time?
They seem to be asking you, yet seemingly indifferent to your answer. People like them are too selfish, speaking to the world only to express their own confusion, having given up the pursuit of answers.
In such conversations, you often feel a chill in your heart, experiencing a profound sense of despair.
If chess players can be broadly categorized into two types, one being the seeker, pursuing the ultimate artistic realm—for example, the pursuit of pure mathematics is not because it's the most abstract and challenging but because it's beautiful. The other type is the victor, the pursuit of which is simple: to win. The meaning of winning lies in victory itself. I used to think I was a seeker when I was very young, then turned into a victor. Recently, I feel like I am neither. I have given up the pursuit of truth, but I don't care that much about whether I win or not, always in a middle ground, accompanied by a sense of spiritual emptiness and self-indulgence.
I don’t know… just can’t find the meaning of life… seems nothing is meaningful but necessary…
普鲁斯特坐在摇椅上，突然扭头问一句“现在是什么季节？”，或者“昨晚的炖肉放了茴香吗？”
你心底一颤，不知如何回答。
How do you respond to someone who has never had their life constraint by time?
他们似乎是在问你，又似乎不在乎你的答案。他们这一类人，太过自私，与世界说话只是想表达自己的困惑，对答案已经放弃追寻。
在这种对话里，你往往心里一凉，感到一种巨大的绝望扑面而来。
如果说棋手大体可以分为两类，一类是求道者，追求的是极致的艺术境界，比如对于纯粹数学的追求不会是因为它最抽象最难，而是因为它美。另一类是胜负师，胜负师的追求很简单，那就是赢，赢的意义就是胜利本身。我以前认为我很小的时候是个求道者，后来变成了胜负师，最近觉得我两者都不是。我已经放弃了追求真理，但又没有那么在意我到底有没有赢，总是处于中间地带，伴随着一种精神层面的虚无和无以自遣。