the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough
ผู้แต่ง
athanasia(อาธานาเซีย)เรื่องย่อ
the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough
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The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG)
the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough
at 7:24 a.m. in thailand, i finally finished the translation work that had been left hanging for days
though sleepy, i refused to waste time on sleep. instead i opened douyin, hoping to practice my listening in chinese
but as time slipped by, i ended up watching videos of traditional chinese attire. scrolling aimlessly, my finger halted on one clip—no... a live stream titled “晚风很温柔”
a woman in a white hanfu appeared on screen. unlike the others i had watched, she was working at dawn, mist still heavy around her. it looked as though she was stripping kernels from raw corn, though i wasn’t sure of the word for it
“strange,” i muttered, as if the whole scene had slipped from another age
many reasons held me there: the hanfu i have always admired, the steady stream of her voice that helped my ears grow used to chinese, the countryside i have long cherished, and the rural life i have secretly wished to try
only then did i realize i had forgotten to write today’s diary. i reached for the notebook beside my bed and opened it once more
while deciding what to write, i noticed she had moved into another room, now eating. it seemed to be a kitchen, which felt unusual—eating in the kitchen instead of a dining room—but i understood it as a difference of culture
truthfully, i understood none of her words. her accent, her phrasing, her rhythm—all beyond my fragile grasp of mandarin. yet i continued watching
instead of sleeping, i rose and sat at my desk, lamp spreading its faint light across the table. i began to write my novel, listening to her words, even if their meaning was lost to me
then another voice drew my attention. another woman had joined the stream. after some time i understood—it was a contest of support, fueled by followers. she lost, and not by a little—19 against 15k
i smiled, faintly, with pity
soon another joined, this time a young man in glasses… hum… he was handsome. i wasn’t surprised when he won
and he did, by a margin of 0 : 575
after that she entered more contests. again and again she lost, the scores always far apart
i wondered if i should help, so i checked the cost of coins. they were cheap—suspiciously so. it would not have been hard to make her win. but with caution i checked how much she would actually receive. only half. the rest went to the system. i abandoned the thought, realizing it would be nothing more than supporting a structure i did not believe in
she kept competing… after the 6 round i stopped counting
yet she smiled the same smile each time
still, that smile, to my eyes, had already changed
lost in that thought, i lifted my hands from the keyboard
i wondered what i would feel, what i would do, if i were in her place
‘if i keep smiling, the viewers will keep speaking to me. if i grow sad, half of them might leave’
‘if i try again, i might win next time. if i stop, there will be no next time’
‘but if it were that easy, the world would be filled with those who never gave up and kept going’
‘yet if i don’t keep going, what else is there to do…?’
in the end, my answer was simple:
“if i were her, i would keep smiling too”
because i am wise enough to know—sorrow changes nothing, not if i must continue anyway
because i am foolish enough to believe—that perhaps a smile might change me…in some way, however small