On Singles' Day in 2011, a cup of black tea costing three yuan was still hot to the touch. As a sophomore in junior high school, I could still get full marks in physics, I could still hang out with friends in Zhongguancun, and I could still touch "eternity" in a trance in the elongated shadow of the sunset - even if this eternity comes from the infinite cycle of 333.33333 Ml in a cup of cheap black tea.
This is a story about how millennials grow up clumsily in Beijing's campuses, buildings and virtual arenas. About those online game masters who did not eventually grow into interesting adults, philosophers who did not become Sun Superman, cellists who did not appear on the stage, dancers who did not become dancers, and "bad people" who did not get admitted to the ideal university, and how they stumbled with scratches on their bodies that were not earth-shattering but still existed, and learned to forget and make peace with life, each other, and themselves.
Inventory of old articles, gradually written from 2021 to 2024, revised this year. There is new content.
Concept: Bulk existentialism of Generation Z