The past is beyond recall; the future can still be chased. I haven't wandered too far—today I see that yesterday was wrong.
When I created a new file, my fingers still typed 2025. Only then did I realize it is already 2026. A lot happened this year. I lost plenty and gained plenty. The luckiest part is that I'm healthy, and no one in my family has been seriously ill. We don't have much money, but life gets by. I don't have big ambitions; most days are spent running around for three meals. My family keeps pushing me to find a job, go to work, get married, have kids. I know the older generation wants to hold a great-grandchild. But not everything can happen on schedule. It's not that I have no plan—it's just not time yet. One step at a time, feet on the ground.
January
I think I was in Wuhan with her for New Year's Eve. I was happy, and I really didn't want to leave. Time together is always short. I still had to finish the orders, and I did not want to work. Before the holiday, I did a big cleanup and found my elementary school book covers, sketchbooks, CDs, alarm clock, and toys, plus middle school test papers, essays, and award banners. Being a kid was great—no worries. I also found a 2013 social media post: 'I want to fly higher.' I never made it; I haven't even been on a plane. Too many tears.
On New Year's Eve, my brothers got together and talked about childhood stuff and a future plan to open a restaurant. The future felt worth waiting for. I set off fireworks and fulfilled a childhood wish, though at the wrong age. Unfortunately, I caught a cold at the start of the year—it felt familiar; the year before seemed the same. I don't want to be sick. Staying at home made me feel guilty: I have hands and feet, yet I can't support myself. Keep going.
February
Still working on orders; even over the holiday I had to work. I wanted to go out and play. I helped her younger brother buy a phone, and the installment plan still isn't paid off. Her brother is older than me—what am I supposed to call him? This month seemed to have nothing happen except getting told off at home every day. The difficulty of being at home: I didn't dare make a sound.
March
No one was home, so I fended for myself and researched 'dark cuisine.' A cat wandered in. Every day was sleep, games, eat; the next meal was the worry. I messed with my blog, backed up and reorganized data.
April
The sky was beautiful recently; I took photos every day. I got an order, so the next meal was covered. Her birthday came, and I worried about what to give. In the end I chose a horse-face skirt. A good friend treated me to 'kun'—chicken. Brothers in the heart, but when you need them, the phone won't connect. At school we always ate chicken together. Also: who on earth is winning in Honor of Kings?
May
Dragon Boat Festival greetings. The sky kept showing off; I kept taking pictures. Weather got hot, and I still had orders to do. Keep going. Honor of Kings—forget it.
June
Happy Children's Day; I'm a kid who won't grow up. Dormmates went to a KTV buffet—our first gathering this year. I never get tired of the sky. Too bad my toe got infected. A cockroach wandered in; it did its work in a bottle. She found a job as a server at Haidilao. Great. Sky: Children of the Light had its sixth anniversary. Xiao Chen, is this all you're giving us?
July
Summer arrived, and the sky had lots of strange phenomena. Aliens, please apply for fairy-tale status. My toe still hadn't healed—please don't be an ingrown nail. Brothers got together to discuss where to find work. Uh, I'll just eat. Went to my aunt's for a get-together and ate crayfish. So fancy—I didn't know how to eat them. A typhoon followed chikungunya in. I love the delivery-app price wars!
August
Hot summer must go with barbecue. Grandma's birthday banquet—82, impressive. The family replaced the fridge; the old one seemed to have been around four or five years. The dragon fruit I planted flowered but then wilted. Kind of like me. Huge rain—get on the boat! I got soaked like a drowned chicken.
September
Watched the military parade; ate mooncakes. The sky was still beautiful, but the typhoon was too fierce—work and school stopped. She bought me bread and snacks. It felt a little familiar. Don't let the delivery war stop—I'm counting on you for milk tea.
October
After the rain, the sky cleared, and I photographed a heart-shaped cloud. Lucky. Got an order! Got an order! Happy Mid-Autumn; reunion.
November
The dragon fruit finally died. Even the sky wasn't beautiful anymore. Bought a phone to read novels. Got ripped off. Always verify who you're dealing with.
December
A good brother's birthday—late-night food. Carb explosion, but so cold. Went with the brothers to a wedding and ate at the banquet. When will it be my turn? Spent New Year's Eve with the brothers and even forgot about her. Oh no.
Looking back
I gained time—enough to do many things I hadn't done—but still feel time is short. I lost a lot, though I can't quite say what. Maybe 2026 can be a little kinder. Live well; living well means eating well, and eating well is living well. We aren't unhappy; we just lack a little ability to perceive happiness. Happiness isn't somewhere else—right here, right now, is everything.
In the new year, I wish everyone peace and joy.