Ladies and Gentlemen:
Good evening! I am indeed pleased to have this opportunity to speak on the subject of pressure virus passion.
At the very beginning of my speech, I’d like to ask you a question: what’s your favorite performance in the national evening party of spring festival this year? The pass-through magic or the skit created by Uncle Benshan? Well, for my grandma, the answer’s always, always the Peking opera. But for me, it would be the emotional performance of the song: in the spring, from a band named Xuriyanggang, consisting of two migrant workers.
Before getting spotlighted, they were just a couple of ordinary subway singers and common workers, who earn daily bread by singing around subway station or working on the construction site. They don’t know any showing-offs but just sing with their hoarse voice full of vigorous vitality glittering like a flame. I feel amazed how great the power they’ve got beneath their plain appearance. I even wonder what have supported them all the way along. Have they ever thought about giving up their pursuit of music when coming back to their shabby shelter from exhausting work?
Facing a situation like that, I doubt whether I could strive to realize my dream because I am so afraid that all my efforts would be in vain. And day by day I have gotten immersed in "something I should do" rather than "something I like to do".
There is one thing for sure that from the moment we wake up in the morning till our heads hit the pillow at night, our lives are filled with pressures and burdens coming in a row. We are fishes struggling in the sea and we need to keep moving and moving till our last breath.
Gradually some of us just give in to the pressure without a fight and meekly submit whatever life throws at us.
One day when we finally hold up our heads and look around, we may be shocked: what a world! Have I ever enjoyed it? What is the significance of my life?
It seems that there is something precious fading away .
It is the power of passion: A sensation so overwhelming that it knocks down the wall we built to prevent risks of youth. A feeling so intense that it resurgences even though we try so hard to keep it buried. A force so potent that it opens a scene before us where grass is green and rivers never dry up.
The pride of being a human comes from the unflinching courage we hold when matching it to our own tune. There would be sorrows and sufferings that lie in store, waiting to strike you down. However, they are not that threatening. The real tragedy is from one’s letting worry and fear bow the heart with passion and turn the belief in faith back to dust. So, as long as we are alive, please keep it in mind: with hope, no one shall fall!
Thank you very much!