[½»Á÷] The Tail of August

The Tail of August

    The last day of the month. Looking back, a fruitless month, just keep dreaming, keep writing, keep bringing down my loneliness. Forced to adapt to all this unconditionally, with nobody around. When seen through all the coldness, no interest any more. There is depression, much stronger than before. Just lock myself in the virtual world, seeking for some invisible comfort. I don¡¯t wanna be labeled as indoorsy. But I¡¯m really not in the mood for any outdoor activities. Let alone the pleasing scenery. All this can no longer rest me which has been overcharged with my gloom. Disgusted with the continuous stillness. Waiting to be improved, while it¡¯s never broken. I can never walk out of this. I¡¯m born to live with it.

    Time presses, still no mood to refer to papers, to prepare for my first report. Sorry, sir, I¡¯m not in the mood for everything for the present. If blame could sting me to action, then let it fall on me.

Aug. 31, 2011, grassman