I want to write about some recent reflections. There is nowhere else to say them, so I can only type them out on the computer, one word at a time.

For reasons everyone knows, my life has had some major ups and downs, but that does not stop me from reflecting on the world.

The more clearly you see reality, the more objectionable you actually become. Why do I say that? Because the world does not need you to be the person who understands everything. Knowing too much is not a good thing; other people will dislike you.

For example, today I discussed views on marriage with a stranger, who was in his twenties. When we talked about love, he said he could give up everything for it. We had a little discussion, and I said, let me tell you a story.

There is a young woman from Shanghai whose family of three lives in a home smaller than forty square metres. She is now 28 years old. She is doing fairly well—at least, she tells us she is—but her dream is to have a large house. By our standards, she is quite wealthy, with over a million in cash.

But do you know what? In Shanghai, that amount might not even buy a thirty-square-metre home. Back home, though, you could build a house of over a thousand square metres, decorate it very nicely, and have a pretty good car as well. She said her parents had spent their whole lives in Shanghai. She did not mind where she went and also wanted to leave Shanghai for somewhere quiet with a slower pace of life. But her parents could not. I love them, she said, and I want them to live in a large house without having to run themselves ragged to make a living. My father is still working even now. He has retired, but he still works as a security guard in a residential community to contribute a little to the household expenses.

That was where the story ended, and then I started reasoning with him again.

I said: would you call that giving up on yourself? You say you would give up everything for love, but have you thought about your children? Do you want them to spend their lives chasing love just as you do? Or to live what you call a stable life—a life of poverty? I do not. I need to be responsible for my children, and this young woman does not want that either. I would not give up everything for love, but that does not mean I do not believe in love. It means I need money to sustain my family and my relationship. Do you understand?

During the discussion, he walked away angrily, saying: those are just your ideas; you cannot impose them on me. I said I had not done that—we were discussing, not arguing. He walked away anyway.

What I thought at the time was: too little brain capacity—ridiculous and shameful. A man who thinks only about himself, without considering his children, is pathetic and irresponsible. You can imagine what he is capable of doing.

At the same time, I thought that perhaps I was being too extreme. Everyone has their own way of living; perhaps he would be happy.

Then I immediately told myself I was too incapable. Why could I not change people's thinking, so they would understand reality rather than submit to it, and resist it instead?

Different experiences lead to different ideas. You cannot change everyone's thinking, but you can use methods to tame them or brainwash them. Or use democracy to deceive them.

Arguing is actually foolish. Let us speak and live calmly. I no longer have so much anger, and I do not want to argue either.