Now

Now I’m 22, almost 23. I don’t know what my grandfather and father were doing at this age. I guess at that time Grandpa was eating from the big pot with production team villagers, smashing pots and making steel to catch up with Britain and surpass America, and was courting Grandma. A little over a year later, my dad was born. When my dad was twenty-three, it was already many years into the reform and opening up. Society was diverse, population was flowing everywhere. After my dad graduated junior high at sixteen or seventeen, he followed a carpenter from the village and became a carpenter, going around repairing houses for people. Later he fell out with Grandpa and went to Yunnan to do carpentry work during the “up to the mountains and down to the countryside” movement. The reason seems to be that Grandpa didn’t approve of him dating another girl from the village. Later he went from Yunnan to Guizhou. Even now he often mentions drinking with Miao village people in Guizhou. He said Miao people drink boldly. To show respect, they drink from evening until dawn, one vat of rice wine after another. In the end, he drank all the Miao hosts under the table. It took them several days to recover, so those people greatly admired him. Without a doubt, this was the most glorious drinking occasion of his life. People like to show off their most glorious deeds. He rarely mentions the Yunnan stories. Only when I went to Kunming earlier did he mention a few place names in Kunming, like near the University of Science and Technology. I went there and felt like I was following in his footsteps from back then. Later he returned to Sichuan. The villagers introduced him to a matchmaker, and he met my mom. Then there was me.

But I haven’t reached 23 yet, so at 22, I’m working. People at this age must go to work, otherwise others will think there’s something wrong with them. But now I don’t want to work anymore. That’s the truth. If someone brags that they like going to work, we’d also think there’s something wrong with their brain. Liking something and having to do something often can’t both be satisfied. We try to choose things we don’t hate. In a few days I’ll resign and return to Chengdu, because I don’t hate Chengdu. What can I do when I get back? I haven’t decided yet. Some people always set themselves two paths. When it comes time to make a choice, they say they’ve reached “a crossroads in life,” as if one side is hell and the other is heaven. One wrong step and you’re doomed forever. I try to avoid this situation, so I’ve always stayed honest—don’t steal, don’t rob, don’t traffic drugs. There’s no possibility of a dark gun barrel being pressed against my head. Besides this extreme situation, I think there are no more “crossroads.”

I have many choices. Continue doing advertising I don’t like (advertising isn’t design, it’s just providing cheap goods to customers. As long as the client is satisfied, it’s fine. Design should be led by designers using a series of plans on the client’s products). I can also switch to home renovation design. I also have ideas about engaging in website design and development. Although I haven’t touched the latter two, I always believe I have the ability to master them—it’s all about perseverance and interest.

Right now I’m at the advertising company, sitting next to the intern guiding him. Indeed, fresh graduates don’t know anything, just like I was back then. It makes me think about society’s attitude toward young people. Those uncles and aunties can all look down on us for having no work experience, but they absolutely shouldn’t reject us because of no work experience. People will eventually die. If you die, there’ll be no one to inherit your work. How regrettable that would be.

(Work was boring. The entire article was written on a mobile client.)