I remember one ever asked me, “why you do all this? because of love?” So what was my answer back there? I have no answer, till now there is still no answer. If my act was based on a mere love, a mere feeling, then that very feeling is the corrupted reasoning that I can find endorsement for my act. There was no right, there was no wrong, I have had no time to think all those things back there.
Well, you may call it love, since the very act itself maybe a love form. But I never thought what was my reason, what I shall achieve by my act. Or, you may call me stupid – I think it is more suitable for me. I remember Alexander Humboldt ever said:
I am more and more convinced that our happiness or unhappiness depends more on the way we meet the events of life than on the nature of those events themselves.
I would let the nature decide my path, since I am not a creator nor I am a seeker. I walk with life, my life, and I am the very life itself.