Cold Dew

The cold, clear air makes people extremely sober, and the dark trees exude a breath of silence. It is now 9:20 in the evening, and I am walking out of the library on my way back to bed.

The lights on the court were still on, and many people were still playing basketball. There were even men and women nearby wearing shorts and skirts playing badminton. I admire their fierceness! The day before yesterday, my cold symptoms were on the rise. From a distance, I saw boys wearing bright uniforms playing football and shouting in the cold rain on the playground. My legs were actually weakening. I shrunk my head because of the cold. At this moment, a group of skateboarders headed behind me like Japanese bosozokus.

Let’s talk about the library. Every night, probably some work-study students would come over to sort out the misaligned books on the bookshelves. They would use a board or a book to slowly knock in the protruding books. As closing approaches, tables and chairs are set up and confirmed. The students who came here had never seen it before, which was quite strange.

The chair has armrests! Put your hands on it and read with your back, and sometimes a sentence will lead you to another place. The reading room provides hot water, not many tables, but very few people. The girl wearing Sony noise-canceling headphones is reciting something silently seriously.

The first book I borrowed here was "The Existentialist Café: Freedom, Existence and Apricot Cocktails", which is a good book. Expect to finish enjoying it this week. My current preference is Merleau-Ponty.

Consciousness is like a "fold" in the world.