October has crept in, and what started as a clear morning suddenly turned into a downpour, making my already monotonous mood even gloomier.

Scrolling through my phone, I saw people sharing pictures of food, while I found myself staring blankly from my balcony. Outside, the wind rattled some metal objects in the street, and from my window, I could see that the alley was almost deserted.

October not only symbolizes the nation’s well-wishes but also marks the last long holiday and the end of fall in my city. The days grow shorter, and the weather gets colder. For me, once October passes, the only thing to look forward to is the winter solstice and the eventual end of winter. I’ve always loved daylight, green leaves, and T-shirts.

I tidied up my room a bit, which didn’t take much effort. Perhaps I should take inspiration from home décor ideas on Pinterest—buy a few storage boxes or maybe put up a shelf for some plants and decorative miniatures or wall posters to bring more life into the space. I told my brother I’d become too casual about the stuff in my room. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my daily learning with my phones and laptops, I don’t care if things are scattered around. With so few items, it’s hard for things to get too messy. Deep down, though, I wonder if I’m just avoiding the hassle of moving or using the “minimalism offers a way to enhance focus and attention” excuse to concentrate on studying. To be honest, studying has always been dull.

Honestly, I want to do something different. But the most challenging things are still English writing, speaking, and math. I’ve done a lot of reading preparation, yet I haven’t been able to write yet. I force myself to write diaries because, without writing for a while, I start to feel hollow and dull. It’s as if I only feel something when overwhelmed or stressed, and that’s not how it should be. Yet, these difficult challenges seem simpler than taking a spur-of-the-moment trip. Where should I go?

In the evening, I chatted with a friend and mentioned that I enjoy things beyond what I can see. For example, when I visit certain commercial districts, I mostly just stroll down the street or grab a bite to eat. On the other hand, when I read about the design of a small villa in the city, I dive deep into researching the details. That’s when I feel truly alive. It’s like the sea—I’ve never seen it, and I don’t have much literary context about it. So, when I finally do see the ocean, what will I think? I have no drinks, and I have no stories.

Stories are different from plans. While a plan is filled with calculations and strategies, a story is about feeling and experience. Maybe if I spent time in a connected café or library, my mind would become more active. This is probably why I haven’t been able to write a review of Craig Taylor’s Londoners yet. The author spent five years gathering interviews from ordinary people across the streets of this city, capturing what real life is like. That, in itself, is life.

A friend mentioned they had to work during the holiday, and it reminded me of the news I read today: New York Times: Port Workers Strike on East and Gulf Coasts. I don’t quite know how to describe this contrast. October began like this—colliding parallel worlds, different environments, and competing worldviews. There are thoughts, but no real emotion or experience.

P.S.: The news reminds me of another article: The Wall Street Journal: Why Can’t U.S. Ports Get Automated?