It was the Winter Solstice a couple of days ago. And, being the Taiwanese I am, I celebrated the longest night of the year with food: while it is a great excuse for late night snacking, eating sticky rice balls with red bean soups is actually a tradition. And, being the philosopher I am, I was inspired by the contents in my ceramic bowl: while most would probably discuss the importance of upholding your own identity and despite being different, I was thinking a little beyond the cliché. The small number of the pink rice ball motivated me to eat it last even though I knew clearly that it is merely a pinch of food coloring more than the rest of the rice balls. While it may seem like a representation of individuality, is it overrated if it’s merely a difference by the surface? Yes, it could arguably be an unnecessary details to contemplate for an old-fashioned metaphor. But, in this age when individualism is such a major theme in education and literature, there are so many instances when the people around me or myself even try so hard just to be different from others by being what we are not. Isn’t it obvious that all of us are created differently, and that even if we have similar ideas, it’s most likely with different justifications or reasons or process? Is it a sin to be the white sticky rice balls and be the same as others? It’s not like it’s physically possible to be identical as another person anyway. There are most likely no rice balls that have the same mass and digest the same way, and I would like to be optimistic enough to believe that the same applies to humanity as well.