Monday, April 21

4/22

Middle school to me is the most memorable. I got in to Jiangnan via the connections of my aunt. I could've gone to a better place if I had picked up Olympiad training at the second grade of elementary school or chosen the one in Nanjing by my sister. It was a time when suddenly pubic hair turns into normality and those who yet possess it will be laughed at. I met Jiangnan You, a girl whose name was mistaken a multitude of times, during the first few weeks of class. Since everything is new, and nothing restraining had emerged, my courage to try out unprecedented, nontraditional things as well increased. I asked her number on the bus. By then I was using my first mobile phone - the first generation of smartphones on the market - costing more than 4000. I texted her with various things, topics. I did not ever discover that I can have so many things to share, things that I don't even share with my mom. A month later, she was mine. And a second later, I dumped her. Yeah, that was me; that's still me. My morbid obsession with challenges presumably originated there. The same phone was confiscated. A friend of mine and I listened LINKIN PARK on the campus, fascinated with the rebellion we seem to represent and the way English in the song differs that of teacher's speaking. Therefore I decided to go with American English, and I've perfected it now. Laterwards he was discovered of using an electronic device, and I panicked and pulled the earphones out of the slot. IPhone was not invented then, so the music didn't automatically stop. I moved home because the former one was demolished, and skipped summer homework because I had an excellent excuse - I've lost it in the moving. Both my teachers and my classmates disbelieved it, but I wasn't forced to do it eventually. The bicycles, the geologically incorrect joke, the girls and boys curious but tentative about each other - yes, it has passed. I'm now lying on the bed typing a post not even myself would read, and simultaneously worrying about the panic disorder and the side effects of the medications I'm taking.

Every time I'm sleepy, and it's rainy, all of my perceptions seem to dim. I see previously chided emotions and feel their poignancy; I contradict myself, and contradict again in the morning. The theramic heater has been malfunctioning for a while, but it's no longer winter so I won't need it. The mouse I touched just hours ago died hours ago. It has never made a sound, or stopped eating. It would shake, and look at me with its uncomprehending, anticipating eyes. And I would always go down or upstairs once I've touched it. It's a passer of my world. Would my mom and father do the same? Would I do the same? Yes, of course, although it's against our will. My brother invited me to fix his computer bought at 2008. I've never seen a laptop working for such an extended period. I plan to go with Windows 8.1 and activate it illegally. Not everyone is like my brother; not every computer is like his computer. Even though, someday it'll break, he'll perish. So will I.

My mom went to the hospital and purchased Oryzanol, Betalok, and Xanax for me. Hope the symptoms can alleviate tomorrow.
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I'm installing Windows 8.1 with update in 53 minutes. With the current operating system, Windows 8, I acquired knowledge of what it takes to have education, and what it means to receive it. Ever since the very beginning, when I've just installed the operating system with a disk I purchased and later have to my then newly married sister - she's had a delightfully handsome child who name I don't know, I was met with difficulty in activating the operating system, in convincing my family that what I was doing is right and I don't see the worth of carrying on a mediocre life. But I didn't give up. Gradually, the computer, especially the SkyDrive folder with little blue cloud between the cover shapes, was filled with various glossary and test samples, some in .xls format, more in .pdf format. I used to wake up at 3 in the morning, drink tons of Maxwell coffee and listen to the melodic death rock by In Flames - we're the ghost of the concrete world, generic code of a dying breed. I still recall the lyrics, not because I've truly enjoyed it, but because it was so desperate, just like me. Also, there were assorted pornography carefully kept in different folders - D:\Downloads\Media for files download via QVOD, now a company under inspection, and C:\Users\billie chan\Downloads for those downloaded from the websites via Google Chrome. At first all of those files were hidden, then I found it troublesome when I was in need. Eventually I just let them expose and merge with The Book of Disquiet.epub and Evasi0n7-win-1.0.7-633a643e10531c58e7ce18018986b6d14774102.zip.

I spent weeks playing Total War: Rome II. It's the second copy of genuine games I've bought, the first was CS: GO. I had not been particularly attracted to games of this type, and I played along nevertheless because it was expensive. I didn't know how I got the money, but the game was just there, seemingly intelligent of everything I've done in front of it. When my brother declined switching to a new computer, I did secretly laughed at him - hey, look at this young/old man, enslaved by his own perspective. But only now have I learned that for people like us - I tended to set myself apart from those around me, and it was proven juvenile - an object, or two, can already constitute the majority of interesting things that ever happen. I find it pathetic, magical realistic, but not funny. I'm a funny person, I was elected as the classroom cutup, but I will never make fun of that. When people ask, what do you insist? What can you protect? My answer might be a wholly hat or something diminutive to the extent of hysterical, which I magnified only because I have nothing else to magnify.

I just decided against reinstalling the operating system. I need it up and running until the day I cross the borderline and never come back. In this sense I became my brother.