Countless Corners

    I’ve been exposed, controlled, and owned by this incredible maze since I was born. Although I go forward every day, whether walking or runing, slow or fast, I have never seen the exit, and I don’t remember what the entrance looks like, but I pass countless corners. Some corners are right-angled, some of them are smooth. Some corners are bright-colored, some of them are black like the darkest night. Usually, I find a treasure box after every corner. Maybe it contains a comedy, or a tragedy, or a magic that can let me feel what is happiness and support me when I’m exhausted. 

    I sometimes feel lonely, even though I’m not alone. We make progress under the same sky, and are confined by the same walls. I sometimes imagine a bird, which loses the freedom to fly, and be imprisoned by the iron cage, but the sky won't regret it, or even know that there’s a forbidden soul - that’s so ordinary. I’ll cry for this bird someday, and the thousands of birds behind it, or maybe not, because the birds might find comedy in a treasure box by coincidence, and I don’t know the feeling of a comedy in a tragedy. Maze, maybe the human brain is one, and life also could be, also the world. Basically, it’s just formed by the corners, walls, exit and entrance. Oh! And us. 

    I told my brother about this maze, and he asked me if I wanted to find the exit. I paused for a few seconds and said yes. He said, you know that you'll never be able to attend your own funeral, don’t you?