September is the dullest month - may God (not that I believe in his existence) take away this month from now on. I could detect the smell of autumn a few weeks ago. It was so pungent that I couldn't avoid breathing in the sad air. Nostrils are like ears, and unlike eyes, always open and exposed for invasion. Not that the air is sickening, but memorial, like the smell of your mother's pillowcase and the clothes one just gets back from laundry. It reminds people of events, in the past, with a certain sense of nostalgia in it. No wonder there are people covering their nose and mouth with their bare hands in streets.

I will be heading off to Korea in October. Probably, this would be the last academic trip in years. So going with someone I know would be a credit and it could put a supposedly wonderful end to my whole study plan these two years. I couldn't stop asking myself What's next? The future, my future, precisely speaking, becomes more elusive and yet daunting. Mid-age crisis, I would say. Doubts just accumulate, as debts. We all have detbs, don't we? It's just the matter of whether we have more doubts than doubts, or vice versa.

I started rethinking my academic goal these two days. I was stunned to discover (one can't lie to oneself) that I am bored with it, to the extent that I am rather fed up. Yes, I'm writing something interesting, yet how profound could it be? Or shall I ask Is it rightly written? Not yet, not soon. Would I be able to survive like this until the day I retire, let's say 60?

Going to class alone, and leaving the campus also alone. At home, sitting in front of the computer, either surfing on the meaningless websites, or writing my thesis. I finally submit myself to the whole theory on how machines alienate people in their everyday life. If lucky, there would be one movie night and two volleyball evenings per week (provided that the games are enjoyable and the film is not crap). Or I will be browsing websites of famous universities overseas to check out what departments and programmes they are offering, dreaming as if I would one day step my foot on their campus.

All these things happen in a cycle. Everything in life is just a cylce, very Buddhist. This is why my life becomes duller and duller. With all the things I need to write in my head, there's a chaos, a mess. My life is chaotically dull, and I become moodless, which I find is also a special mood at the same time. So now, I can establish moodless=moody. Whatever crap theory it might be.

Too lazy to go to a computer shop to buy a writing pad so that I can write my blog in Chinese. Yes, I am lazier to learn how to type my mother language. I bought a horrible aroma oil from Franc Franc, yet, I am too lazy to get a new one, which smells better. Laziness comes from moodlessness, which in turn comes from alienation. So many thoughts on my future, but so little things have happened to signal me.