A boy was always interested in science. The time, the distance from one to one, and the space. Scientific fictions inspired his instinct of creating. While others was thinking about how to get a full score in math, the boy was trying to figure out how people discovered math, and how these bizarre figures could be applied into physical phenomenons. While others were complaining the meaninglessness of calculus and functions in real life, the boy was trying to think about everything of his life in functions. And while others are trying their best to remember theories recorded in the textbook, the boy was trying to create new things from knowledge he had learned. He swore to be a prominent mad scientist which he have disobeyed later. What science bring him is an objective logic, that everything could be interpreted into figures,functions, and equations. He was too objective that he have lost everything which in his age everyone should have.
When the boy grew up, he found the inharmonious between the real world and the world of figure, and his heart became as cold as frozen ice. He lost the passion towards everything except the only snowflake hanging on this chest which is the only part of warmness. He decided to find his passion back, the passion that could bring him to the world of figure, to the world which was where he always be, and which could bring him to where he wants to go. But he failed, for in the world of figure, he was alone.
He finally got used to the real world, yet being defeated by reality. He heard that to give up meaningless illusions of a child is the way to be grown up, but for him, giving up was far more painful than persist, which, the pain was constant.
He, again, wanted to recover the passion towards the world of figure, the world which was the only way he could think that could bring him to where he wanted to be. But this time, he stepped into philosophy, the old man who always laughed at him, preventing him to think more in-depth. He attempted to defeat this old man so that his creation, his illusion could be proven.
But it seemed he failed again, completely failed.
The old man not only gave a warm welcome to him, but led the boy to open his heart, the painful, frozen, but alive heart.
He met Socrates who warned him to concentrate on improving himself, and who died for his own belief. The boy respected him a lot.
He met Plato who led him to discover his soul, and who told him not to believe the world, for every knowledge gained by sense is not knowledge, but opinion.
He went into the cave, the cave of prisoners. He had believed the illusion reflected by the fire, but when he came out, he found that everyone were captives of their own identities,living in the prison of their own creation.
He glanced the note on the stone of existentialism, telling him that when he is fighting against his freewill, he is standing at the highest point of his life, but he is not authentic.
He met Aristotle, who taught him that virtue is the only way to pursue happiness, and happiness is the ultimate good human pursues.
He accepted edification of these old men, and plugged their mottoes into his experience, he was shocked. This was the first time the boy learn learned himself. The first time for him to see his soul, and the first time for him to understand the meaning of a protector.
He didn’t become wiser, but his soul has improved.
