It is now November 5th, Wednesday, a day worth celebrating. The past week or two has indeed been incredibly busy, and the original plans now seem to be best described as "unrecognizable."
Let's rewind to mid-October, on my birthday, when a few colleagues and I had a big meal at Haidilao. I was prepared to avoid any awkwardness, but when the music started and everyone paused to look around, I couldn't hold it together. The next day happened to be the weekend, and it was a very happy and rare occasion that Bao traveled a long distance to celebrate my birthday with me (possibly because birthdays only come once a year). Although it was just a short day, it felt particularly fulfilling starting from six in the morning. I thought I might try waking up early again in the future, but not right now. We first had breakfast, then went to Baotong Temple to observe the cats and pigeons, and we happened to encounter monks chanting (which reminded me of morning reading in high school). Neither of us had slept much the night before, and by this time, we were feeling drowsy, so we took a short nap. Unfortunately, I spent almost half the day feeling unwell, which didn't clear up until the afternoon, and I wasn't sure why. After waking up, we decided to go to WS Dream Era; these were all spontaneous decisions without prior planning. Coincidentally, an ice cream shop had just opened, and we saw an interesting performance and tasted what was essentially free ice cream (1 RMB). There were also many shops selling various accessories, food, household items, and computer peripherals, which was a bit overwhelming. Finally, we discovered an indoor amusement park that we hadn't experienced before, and there was a birthday discount, but considering that neither of us was in the best shape, we ultimately decided not to go in. We will definitely come back to experience it later. After much hesitation for lunch, I chose omelet rice, feeling that my stomach should no longer protest. In the evening, we returned to school and happened to encounter a concert. After eating at the newly opened Subway, we went to the venue as spectators, and I didn't expect that on this day, I could achieve the milestone of "watching a concert together." The car to send Bao back on Sunday wasn't as early, so I had a lovely sleep. When it was time to part, I watched her enter the station, her figure gradually disappearing into the crowd, and I realized how small she really was, crossing half a map to see me alone, and then returning with a big bag. I thought how nice it would be if there were no more goodbyes in the future. I turned back to school, not realizing that my tears had been blown away by the cold wind on the road.
After that, I busily (or one could say, grumblingly) made it to November. I planned to accompany Bao for her birthday, which was supposed to be today, but the arrangement of the group meeting and the collective activity made me hesitate in making a decision. Now I wonder if it would have been better to be a bit braver; I'm not quite sure. My intention to accompany Bao is firm, and the best timing for this would have been earlier, but second best is now. Although it's a bit late, I think I should let go of some heavy burdens and take a spontaneous trip.
As you can see, this is a monthly journal, but a large portion is dedicated to describing the day of October 18th. Does this deviate from the meaning of a "monthly journal," and should it be called a "diary"? I don't think so; to me, this is a monthly journal. Since I started writing in April 2021, this is the 54th entry by ordinal count, and conservatively estimating at 600 words per entry, the total has already exceeded thirty-two thousand. I suddenly understand why I am so persistent in recording; this is my memoir to myself. Those daily routines drowned in boredom, the time sliced into fragments by deadlines, and the days that slowly fade from memory, only become whole again when written down. In a lifetime, grass grows in spring, coming like wind and rain, leaving like fine dust. In the end, it is just as empty as when it came; if there is anything left, it can only be words and memories.