This is the time of the year when the moon is the roundest, they say.
The world keeps getting older, some humans make their debut onstage, some others leave. Today is an important day for some, today is a sad day for some, today is just another day. It’s another day and the moon is so beautiful.
Montserrat Caballé sings a lullaby and makes me want to cry. How I wish life weren’t supposed to be reduced to a couple of books, but I know I could make this so much easier on myself if I didn’t think of it as a burden, if I didn’t associate it with the monotonous, arrow-like lifestyle that pervades this dormitory.
I’ve been thinking too much today. When will I finally give myself a break?