初二。
It's yet another year of the essential chinese tradition of visiting the elders and meeting overzealous relatives. With every year passing by, it somehow feels like we're all stuck in limbo, an endless loop that regurgitates every ounce of boredom. Its repetitive cycle is endless, nauseating or even with excruciating misery. At its zenith, it feels like a drab, a dreary chore.
Perhaps it does not only apply to myself, but also these people. The annual event of sucking up to these sycophants, unusually inquisitive all of a sudden. Why the sudden interest in my routine, my life, my hobbies? As if i would be obliged to incite your appetite for further questioning. Curiosity kills the cat. Ever heard of it?
Is this out of concern or merely just an attempt to spark that very pathetic bit of conversation?
Don't mind my ranting, sorry for the pessimism.
Well, on the bright side, at least there is the incentive of angbao collection...
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