Many people have heard the saying: within the light cone is destiny. From a distance, everything has already happened; what we see is just the light and shadows cast from the past. The closer you get, the less clearly you can see the full picture. I often imagine myself from above, looking at this shell of a body, pondering how to settle it so that within this predetermined trajectory, I can slightly deviate my own curve.

But escape velocity is never enough. The recent "kill line" means exactly that—it’s not a game value, but a thin, invisible line hanging over everyone's head. A gentle touch, and life could completely slip away. One unemployment, one accident, and you could fall from stability into wandering.
We are all pushing stones. Desire makes the stone heavier, anxiety makes the slope steeper, and that stone is called a mortgage, bills, an unstopppable job, emotional value. We can never push it all the way up, never dare to let go.
Ironically, Camus said that Sisyphus must be imagined as happy.
So I increasingly feel that imagination is that tiny true gap. It’s not self-deception, but in acknowledging that the stone will always roll down, telling oneself: I’ve pushed this one up, I am pushing the next. Isn’t that a positive feedback loop?
The light cone of destiny has long been emitted. But inside it, you can retell your story.
There’s no need to escape the light cone—that’s impossible.
All that’s needed is to live in the light as if you have chosen this trajectory.