Racing in F1 to Find Angels – A European Journey of a Single Girl

Author: Tong Yan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-02-01
Features: I didn’t care about the cold or exhaustion; fear consumed me entirely. After who knows how long, I found myself standing on the roof of the garage. The sky wasn’t cloudy, but instead an endless, thick, and dark gray, about to collapse. I was a restless and empty person, always lost. I thought I needed the stimulant of espresso, but it turned out that without the mild and gentle foam milk, I would have been so heartbroken that I almost wanted to die. Sitting in the subway, in a hotel, I was almost exhausted. The faces of the people in the carriage, one after another, pale and bewildered, stared at each other. The entire city was silent at that moment. Young people, with their makeup smudged and clothes tattered, lowered their heads, wandering through the city like zombies. People could be seen lying down on the streets everywhere. It was unbearable. Sitting by the roadside, I called my mom, and it helped a little. This is the outcome of being overwhelmed by emotions, just like drinking—finally waking up from a dream of intense headaches to search for angels, or rather, to search for the meaning of life. Back then, although I had lost interest in life, I still had some curiosity. I tried to live freely and unrestrainedly, trying to fully open myself to anything that could evoke a sense of beauty in life. New places, new people—this constant shifting of perspectives, even overturning old beliefs, kept me focused, like driving an F1 car, always in a state of tension and excitement. Although it was exhausting, at least it allowed me to forget the sadness of reality. I had already decided to become a hedonist, and so much of the pain was just because I was young. My story began in Germany, a place that produced Hegel and Nietzsche. I’m grateful to that philosophical city for letting me experience the boredom of life and understand the helplessness of living for the moment. Then I wandered through Europe with no purpose, no direction. I only remember that it lasted for a year, and I visited ten or so countries, only to realize that meaning is something you can’t find. Curiosity can never be satisfied. My inherent pessimism never changed; finally, I became an indifferent, selfish person, just like I am now. It could still be called kindness—selfish but never harming others.