The past two days have felt like a real turning point—at home, and at school too. In the space of four hours, the switch from one world to the other somehow connected itself perfectly.
Maybe this was the opening scene
Tonight brought a piece of ridiculous news: the studio has been moved.
It started with one of those completely nonsensical conversations:
A: Did you hear the studio got robbed? B: No? A: Great. The H-games you hid under the desk were stolen. B: No way! I spent a whole year collecting those! I’m done for. B: Wait, was it you? How do you know I hid them under the desk? A: I am you.
Yes, A and B were in fact the same person.
After a long stretch of pointless back-and-forth, the actual news finally came out: during winter break, the studio was moved without anyone bothering to tell us. Someone called to say all our stuff was gone, and the place had been turned into an office.
My first instinct was still to ask where the things had gone—more specifically, where my H-games had gone. The final answer, after another round of nonsense, was that logistics had taken everything away.
And there was one more hard fact to accept: from now on, going on duty at the student association means climbing to the third floor. Have mercy on these old bones.
Tonight, at least, deserves to be remembered
I’ve said it before, but Xiaodong really is the best.
On a night this cold, with the road loud and the wind even louder, he stood there by himself waiting for me. A whole hour of waiting still wasn’t enough to shake his determination. He stood at the roadside like a statue. The passing wind seemed to be blowing just for him, the streetlights shining just for him, even the whistles and car horns on the road sounded like they were part of his soundtrack.
I really do want to thank him properly. This wasn’t the first time he waited for me there, and it wasn’t the first time I got a ride from him while he had to take a detour on his way home. About all I can give back is a sincere wish after we part ways.
Tomorrow morning he starts a trip of more than thirty hours. I hope the road is smooth for him, and that he has a good time once he gets back to school.
And honestly, Xiaodong—tonight’s main character was you.
What about me?
Me too. Tomorrow I’m heading back to school.
Compared with his thirty-plus hours, my four-hour trip is hardly worth mentioning, but we’re both going through the same relocation: from home back to campus.
When I first started college, everything felt fresh. Now that the novelty has worn off, it feels more like sitting there as some weathered old man on a stone by the crossroads, watching people come and go, thinking about what has already happened to me, and feeling almost nothing about whatever comes next.
The blog has been pretty quiet lately. Right before a new term starts, everything somehow gets tied to school, and anything unrelated—like writing here—gets pushed aside. Looking around, a lot of other blogs have gone quiet too. Most of the energy seems to have moved over to microblogs instead.
Today I tried to seriously picture campus life again, and I realized I’d already forgotten quite a bit of it. Home really is a shelter from the wind.
I honestly don’t even want to imagine school right now: getting up early every day, morning runs, signing in, early self-study sessions that usually just mean changing locations and going back to sleep, and the usual habit of skipping morning classes altogether.
Also, I got a perm yesterday. That’s probably the biggest change of the whole vacation.
Maybe this is the prelude to tomorrow
The temperature is supposed to drop tomorrow, and it might snow.
Fine by me. I was already worrying about those heavy clothes I didn’t want to pack, so I might as well just wear them. Then again, if I’m wearing them, I’m still the one carrying them. Why does it feel lighter that way? Where exactly does that difference come from?
Well, for someone who failed physics, wondering about that is perfectly normal.
My sister said she might come see me. I’ve been wanting to go to the movies, but going without a girl somehow feels too pathetic. If my sister comes along, that problem solves itself.
My parents are coming too, and they’re bringing me a printer. At least after that I won’t have to run from dorm to dorm every time I need to print something. I’ve already paid for enough printouts in one-jiao notes to get tired of the whole thing.
The ending, since endings are unavoidable
The start of a new term is unhappy and painful, but it’s also something that has to be faced.
So I’ll end this the way I always seem to end things when I slip into that essay-writing mode:
Be happy. Keep going.~