I went to watch “Ready Player One” the other day. Really good movie with all the classics from previous decades, music and games, you name it. Yet I think I don’t fancy going back to the cinema to watch one more time.
The deserts in “Mad Max: Fury Road”, the planets in “Interstellar”, the tropical forests in “The Book Of Jungle” – these keep making me buying tickets all over again.
I am fascinated with the scenery of nature. All of it, from the fantasies to… better than fantasies: reality.
Rather than the joy of possessing stuffs, I would rather work my ass off for a couple of months until I can afford a ticket and a trip somewhere, standing on top of a 4000-meter peak, sitting under a multi-layered waterfall looking up, climbing rock cliffs covered in fogs and mists or just riding winding dirt roads when the sun is going to set behind a range of mountains, leaving a sky of purple gradient.
I used to be a weak, fat fuck who could barely take care of myself, who went to the hospital 8 days straight after taking one cold shower, who struggled to even breath in the middle of the nights, and who seriously thought of dying before doing a single meaningful thing in life.
People made jokes on me then. They still make jokes on me even now, when things changed that I am doing better than ever – that I am working on giving the same life-changing experiences to other people. I realized that I would never satisfy everyone – the more I try to do it the more miserable I get.
I doubt myself a lot less ever since. Ever if I do, I work my ass off to get back on the road again.
Mèo.
Mèo Siêu nhân 