Can you roar in despair? What comes after roaring until you have no strength left? Is it numbness? What if you don't have the talent to be numb? What if you can't deceive your own conscience? What comes after that?
It's a state of dullness.
On November 12, 2022, a friend of mine who was under lockdown in Beijing shared her recent situation with me: "I went downstairs to pick up a delivery and unexpectedly found the prison gate open. I strolled outside, but couldn't find the package."
I can guess that even though her community was under lockdown, the world outside the prison was still full of vitality. In April and May of this year, I looked at the streets outside the iron fence in despair, and the world beyond, but I had no desire to escape. Because when a big city becomes a prison, with no open public places, no functioning public transportation, and no one to meet, there is no meaning for me to go out. Where could I go? It would just be from room A to room B in the prison. Can I leave Shanghai? Even if I leave Shanghai, where can I go?
I even began to doubt if freedom was just an illusion. Looking back to when I wasn't confined at home, even if I had the so-called freedom to move around, the choices I could make seemed limited - the gym, a few familiar cafes and bars. It was as if my actions were on a predetermined path, and I thought it was my own free choice, but it was actually conditioned. Even if I think further, even if I could leave Shanghai, aren't my actions and my life still following a predetermined path? Does the size of my range of motion really matter? A cat spending its entire life in a few dozen square meters of apartment is not imprisonment, so why does a person have to go to many places in their lifetime? If that's the case, what's the difference between not being able to go out now and not being able to go out before? At that time, I was neither angry nor sad, just silently pondering. If there were any emotions, it was fear. I had thoughts like "freedom is a hypocritical illusion" while being afraid of having such thoughts and even accepting them.
Although looking back now, I could have resisted the tendency to deny freedom with stronger actions. Even urban survival would be exciting, but I knew that I couldn't do it at that time. The path was clear, but I didn't run.
It was a grand PUA, and I couldn't resist the temptation to deny my own existence.
I once had a conversation with a neighbor who said angrily, "If it weren't for my cat, I would have rushed out." Even if it was a hypothetical statement, I recognized and admired her courage, but at the same time, I asked her in confusion, "Where do you plan to rush to? The neighborhood committee or the police station?" At that time, I was really confused. It was a feeling of losing connection with the world, a complete sense of disorder. After listening to her, I imagined, even if I stood at the entrance of the neighborhood committee or the police station the next second, what could I do? I could even imagine the same confusion and illusion in the other person. Any demands I could make would be trivial. Can the staff of the neighborhood committee or the police station answer my question, "Have you had enough fun?" I guess I wouldn't be reprimanded or harassed, but most likely I would be "sent back" home. It would be like everything was in vain.
It was a grand PUA, and I couldn't resist the temptation to dissolve the meaning of all actions.
Afterwards, I rarely had these "metaphysical" thoughts. It was probably a self-protective mechanism, and the three meals a day really took up too much of my energy. Although I didn't live in the hunting and gathering era, it seemed like my efficiency in obtaining food was just as low - besides sleeping and eating, my time was spent on searching for food. Especially since I'm used to consuming a lot of vegetables, and vegetables are extremely precious. Shanghai qing with transparent stems, yellowing hollow vegetables, withered lettuce, yellowing cucumbers, cabbage leaves with mold spots, hollowed out bamboo shoots and pulled out bamboo shoot leaves, sprouting potatoes... I lowered my standards for food while mechanically storing energy for survival; at the same time, I increased my appreciation and greed for food, exerting all my strength like a tiger pouncing on prey every time I had the opportunity to replenish food, even if the amount I obtained far exceeded my consumption rate.
It was a grand PUA, and I felt like I was living like a slave.
Looking back on those days, I feel ashamed. Even though I'm not in the so-called "prison" now, I still feel like my soul has been branded as a former slave. I'm ashamed of my passive surrender to the questioning of freedom and self, and ashamed of compromising and being greedy for food. Although my rational mind knows that it's not my fault at all.
In a grand PUA, at the beginning, you may feel angry and perhaps think about many things like a purgatory, but what comes after you have no strength to continue? It's a state of dullness.
I don't know how many storms I will face in the future, how many times I will be caught in one whirlpool after another. If there is a next time, I hope I can be more proactive and have more initiative, even though I don't want there to be a next time.