LaoChaofengWriting an “About” page is probably a blogger’s sweetest burden —
wanting you to see the real me,
yet fearing that the mirror might reflect too clearly.
Thinking it over, perhaps the most honest way is to tell you about the path that brought me here.
予之俗无敢附庸风雅。
予之庸无望曲高和寡。
予之怂无胆花前月下。
予之鄙无以笑对芳华。
（Note: This poetic composition reconstructs the essence of the original lines using classical imagery, and currently has no corresponding English translation.）
If you have ever examined yourself in this way, then perhaps we were fellow travelers from the start. In this noisy world, this is merely an attempt to quietly understand the traces of life.
TIPIn May 2024, I left a new mark here: 「老朝奉.com」. Everything from before is sealed in previous addresses and will no longer be migrated.
Before the name 「老朝奉」 existed, there was a formless trace of its beginning. It started on an ordinary afternoon.
Like many, driven by a curiosity about the world, I opened that blank document, trying to find a starting point to settle the thoughts buzzing incessantly in my mind.
It began as just a digital notebook for fragmented musings— recording the tremor of turning book pages, and also the clumsy yet genuine joy of learning something new. The latter stemmed largely from my self-taught programming journey outside of school. From the bewilderment facing a black terminal screen, to writing my first script that could solve a real problem, that “create-feedback-revise” cycle planted the most primal longing for all my subsequent records.
Slowly, through constant typing and reviewing, the act of recording began, in turn, to sculpt me. The clatter of the keyboard became my way of conversing with myself, and also the chisel and carving knife with which I examined and shaped myself. I was no longer content with merely ‘recording what happened’, but began to ask, ‘why record it this way,’ and ‘is another form possible?’
Later, this questioning of form drove me toward more concrete practice. From WordPress to Halo, to Typecho, I experimented, migrated, and made choices between different systems.
They each had their purpose, and each answered my needs at a certain stage.
Until finally, I settled on the static framework Astro.
The path wasn’t always clear. There was fog, there was walking alone, and times I was led astray by data, traffic, and the voices of others, briefly forgetting the direction I set out with.
Only by stopping again and again, did the inner clamor gradually subside, and in a quietness belonging to myself, I picked up the pen.
I came to understand slowly, that what I truly craved was not to be seen by more people, but unvarnished expression.
Even if it’s just one sentence, it could, for the right person, leave a little echo.
And so, this corner gradually grew into what it is now.
It is the layered trace of my thinking, the inkstone field of my learning, and also the window through which I gaze at daily life. I believe that within the bustling human world, poetry that is serene and profound is also hidden.
Some say my writing is like aged tea— slightly astringent at first taste, but with a lasting aftertaste; others find it overly candid, with emotions laid bare, even somewhat somber.
I don’t brew chicken soup for the soul, I only steep bitter tea.
What is stored here are those not-so-bright but genuine reflections. I choose to record every texture of life, including the dim creases.
If you linger here, may we meet in authenticity, and see resilience within vulnerability.
If this blog must be defined, it is more like an ‘adult’s glass jar’— holding my passions, obsessions, confusions, and those heartfelt words not suited for a social media feed.
In the future, I will still be here, using thought as my pen and time as my paper, continuing to write of my ordinary and extraordinary.
The road is still long. If you walk alongside, the scenery will surely be, vastly different.
Thank you for reading this far. In this age of scarce attention, that in itself is a form of generosity.
If one night you stand by your window late, and see an old moon, remember that in some corner of the world, a stranger named 「老朝奉」, might be gazing at the same light.
