Even if the essence of life is not beautiful, it is forced to be beautified by filters in people's eyes because some people, certain things and certain places exist as static objects. At this point, I am reminded of what Romain Rolland said, there is only one true heroism in the world, that is, after recognizing the truth of life, still loving life. Also like Dostoevsky pointed out in "The Brothers Karamazov", it is easy for an independent person to love the whole human being, but it is more necessary to love a specific person; in life, don't love life The meaning is to love the specific life.
After reading it, I can't help but ask, even though each of us lives in a real society, how real do we see it? Its absurdity and beautification cover up how ugly it really is? How does each of us determine whether what we see is pure truth?
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