Fantasy#
Many parents in the country always tilt the balance of the parent-child relationship towards the scale of "grades," but have never considered what kind of suffering their children will endure in the future. The disciplinary methods under the guise of "for your own good" have instead trapped their children in deeper predicaments. There is a bit of anger and helplessness in my heart, along with a touch of regret. I am angry at my youthful timidity for not being able to fight back; I sigh that even if the soul is detached, it still cannot escape misunderstanding; I regret sinking into the mire of self-doubt day after day.
While driving to and from work, I repeatedly ponder how to reconcile with my past. Until today, a scene emerged in my mind: a family member lying on a hospital bed, their frail fingers tightly gripping the hem of my clothes, using their last strength to urge me to "work hard." At that moment, the emotions I had long suppressed seemed to be released. It turns out that letting go is not about relinquishing responsibility, but about understanding that expectation and reconciling with the helplessness of reality. For a moment, I didn't even know what supported me—was it that unbroken urging, or humanity's obsession with survival?
Perhaps we are all Fugui from "To Live," living has become the dust of the times. Parents carve their children's lives based on what they believe to be correct, while children spend their lives searching for their true selves. I just don't understand, since suffering nurtures suffering, why is understanding among kindred so difficult?