One person, one city

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Enjoy the last traces of peace left over from last night in the early morning, waiting for the sun to rise above the horizon – and thus a new day begins. The moment I wake up, I no longer worry about whether there are classes today or if I need to submit homework; instead, I think about going to work, knowing that I might return home later. I am learning to adapt to society, to the idea that people’s motives are often inscrutable, and to the deceitfulness they speak of. I used to be so naive, but now I feel so exhausted; society is the worst punishment for those who enjoy comfort in college. I vaguely remember that three years ago was a turning point that determined different paths for us in life. Some people continued their postgraduate studies, while others went back home to take the jobs arranged for them by their parents. Some started their own businesses with passion, but those like me, who were unremarkable and had no connections, had no choice but to head to the big city, armed only with a worthless diploma and resume. All I could do was find a simple job to cover my most basic living needs. I want to find someone to talk to, but I’ve forgotten that in my world there is only myself, since the day I decided to be on my own. I didn’t tell my parents how difficult things were for me, and I didn’t tell my classmates about my work situation; I wanted to bear it all on my own. It’s as simple as it was during college days – you don’t ask, I don’t tell. I live in a converted space in the basement that is less than 10 square meters; everything I have is there. The crumbling ceiling resembles dancers in motion, and I’ve long since gotten used to it all. Every day I meet all kinds of people; some have just graduated from high school, while others are even girls aged 15 or 16. It seems that poor academic performance overshadows their entire past. When I ask them what they plan to do in the future, they are also very confused. Looking back on myself, it’s truly ridiculous; I’m no different. I’ve been in this city for three years now, yet I haven’t achieved anything notable, nor have I made any close friends. Asking others about their plans for the future is like throwing stones at my own feet. The guy next door got married; I heard the bride is very beautiful. My mom called and asked if I was going to come home this year. I’m holding back my sobs; I’m too busy with work – maybe next year. I’m so disappointed. I know my mom misses me a lot, and I want to go home too, but I can’t. My friends back then led simple yet happy lives, while I was still striving in a strange city, not knowing why. The young me was so unreasonable; I even learned to hate myself. Just like during my college days, I hated every single day of it, as if my soul was being trampled underfoot by another version of myself. The Record of Fate’s Beginnings is too simple; I’m already accustomed to the idea of bonds forming and breaking. It’s just like everyone in my life who is gradually being forgotten. I graduated, and suddenly I forgot the way back. I always thought that feeling of reluctance would be expressed vividly – through crying or staying silent – but I was actually quite calm. Perhaps four years have silenced that joy in me; I’m long past the age for such passion and sorrow. In fact, I was only 23 at that time. Some say that the age range of 20 to 30 is when one is most confused, and maybe that’s true. I’m confused too; where should I go, Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangzhou? Back to that small village then? What should I do, what can I do? What can an ordinary second-tier university offer me in this competitive society? At the last meal before graduation, some people were laughing while others were crying; I, on my own, drank alcohol without knowing what to say. I didn’t say where, and I don’t want to say. Later I arrived in a city, and as I wished, I was alone; my heavy suitcase was like the burden I was carrying – filled with confusion, loneliness, and sadness. It was my first time staying in a hotel; it was unfamiliar to me and I wasn’t used to it, and it wasn’t until the early morning that I finally fell asleep. The city wakes up too early; I can still see no sign of morning. Looking for a job is the first thing that comes to mind. With my degree in hand, I visited many companies, both well-known and unknown. Over time, I realized that the city was too small – too small to accommodate me. It’s time to pay the rent again; having just over 200 yuan in my pocket makes me feel quite wealthy. I’ll keep looking for a job; I no longer expect it to be perfect, and all I want now is to have something to do. Being able to not feel hungry, being able to stop crying secretly under the covers because of rent – I lost. So fragile, as if this is just how I’m meant to be. Everyone around me looks down on me; when you leave, no one cares anymore about what I do or what I think. I’m free like this, lost in freedom, and no longer able to hold onto myself. “\"Ding ding ding,\" as the alarm went off, a new day began. This means new hopes and new busyness. I remember that a year ago, right after graduating, I came to this unfamiliar city alone, full of passion and carrying the dreams that every graduate has – the determination to achieve something great. And now, worn down by society, I no longer have any edges or that youthful vigor. From immaturity to maturity, I feel that what I have gained most is a sense of psychological stability. I can’t remember how many times I was mocked by others, nor how many times I got up after falling; my body was covered in wounds, but I learned to embrace it, feeling pain yet also joy. This city still has too many shortcomings compared to those metropolises; as a stranger, my livelihood always comes first. A few days ago, the rent went up again; the landlord said it was because of higher water costs. I don’t know how many times the rent has increased this year, but I do realize that the ratio between my rent and my salary has never changed. There are far too many people like me: dark basements, crowded and noisy, with not a single moment of peace. Some people came with great determination, but after a short while they could no longer bear such a life and left ； Some people come and never leave again, but which category I belong to, I haven’t thought about it seriously, nor do I want to think too much about it. I remember around 5.1, a friend suddenly called me and said he wanted to come by to see me and discuss business as well. I looked around, checked in the mirror, and for the first time, I lied like that: “I’m on a business trip, outside the city.” In those following days, my phone was always turned off, and I moved through the city where I had lived for over a year with the same caution as when I first arrived. Perhaps I’m destined to be a source of entertainment in other people’s lives. My friends still see me, and I really want to dive into some crack in the ground; I complain that the city is too small, too tiny. He asked me if my work was done, and I replied in a low voice that it was. I think if I were him, I would find my smile to be forced. It was just a simple catch-up; there weren’t many topics to talk about – mainly things like how work was going, who got married, and who went abroad. Perhaps we’ve all changed; we no longer ask what score we got on exams, nor do we ask if there will be classes tomorrow. We know that path can’t be taken again, and it’s meaningless to us now. Before leaving, my friend told me that she was getting married. She said it so cautiously, as if she had struggled with the decision for a long time. I just replied with an “oh,” and she didn’t say anything else; she turned around and got on the train that was leaving. I stood there alone, numb, no longer thinking about the reason he had come. I knew he hadn’t changed; the care he once showed me remained warm. I smiled, but no tears came. I asked my boss for a day off to go out and walk around; I’ve been feeling stressed for too long, which is why I get angry often these days – even my pillow has become distorted from all the stress. Do I regret it? If I think about it, I should have left as well when my friend did. The me from before would have done that, but I didn’t; I don’t know why my feet wouldn’t obey me. Memory is becoming increasingly blurred; aside from her name, all that remains of my impression of her are those few photos in a frame, vague and unclear as to how many years they have been there. I’m so selfish that I don’t leave anything good for myself. It’s over, it’s faded away; forget it. I think it doesn’t matter anymore, at least for now. “Ding-ding-ding! ”Why am I thinking about the alarm again? I forgot – it’s the weekend today!