At noon I received a message on my cell phone: "It seems that you are a very busy man."I checked the number, but it was quite unknown to me; I really couldn't figure out who it was. The best course was to send an ambiguous reply: "That's true. Lately I've been swamped." Ordinarily, this wasn't really true. Apart from teaching class, I didn't have anything special on my agenda or anybody that I really had to see.

　　But everyday life always fills up; all day long you rush around doing this and that, hoping in vain that once this and that is done you can relax a bit. But in reality, as soon as one thing is finished, another one pops up. Obligations seem timed to your pace of work: the faster you accomplish one task, the sooner the next one appears. There's no way to reduce their actual number.

　　At school during the break I ran into Dong Congwen in the teacher's lounge and with many a sigh shared these observations with him, never imagining that his over-scheduling was far greater than mine. "That's not the worst of it!" he said. "What really rubs is that you're first obliged to deal with a string of trivialities, so you put aside your heart's desire temporarily. But then you realize that this string of trivialities is never-ending, and one day, you discover that your life has been consumed by them." Dong Congwen gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're completely powerless; you are helpless to stop your life being consumed by trivia."

　　"At least you have realized that your life is consumed by trivia." I said. "But me? The bottom line is that I'm rushing around all day and I don't even know what I'm doing." "That's what Sartre said, I can't find this quote“还是萨特的话，‘徒劳的烦忙’ 'Busy with fruitless effort'. Ten years ago I scrambled to finish my schooling, got my doctorate. Five years ago I got my professorship. Three years ago I became self sufficient; bought my own house. Two years ago I fulfilled my obligation to future generations; became a father. During all those years there's not been one day that was unhurried: and for what? Today what can I really count on? These days doctorates are cheaper than dog meat; nowadays doctorates are produced by the gross. Professorships, then? It's only a three year appointment. My house is mortgaged to the roof. My kid? It might be best to do a DNA test to find out if it's really mine. Reflecting on all that, I sometimes think that life is hopeless. But that's just the way it is. If you live in this world, you follow this world's rules, and this world's rules are "keep busy".

　　"And that makes you competent? Take me: I don't have kids or even a wife and my flat is rented. I have a lot less hassle than you."

　　"You got it. The whole problem is that I've got a wife. Now, I'm my wife's man and no longer my own. Once you're married it's all over. My wife is just the prison warden; we're constantly watching each other. And freedom? Out the window!"

　　"Most all contracts have a term, but not a marriage contract", I offered. "Why do you think that is? So you can't go back on your word? Getting married is like buying a product with no guarantee. Regret? Forget about it! It's too late." "But you get used to it, right?" Dong Congwen said. "Things come up right and left and you're always thinking about other things and other people. How did they worm their way into your life in the first place? Why do you have to bother with them? How are you supposed to handle them? People just do it out of habit, really. It all becomes habit."

　　I have to admit that I don't care enough about my friends. Dong Congwen, for example. We're friends; I've known him for nearly ten years. But fundamentally, I don't really know how he thinks or what he does. We just have fun together, drink together, and that's it. We don't make any effort to penetrate the other person's inner self. Or perhaps the truth is that we are afraid of each other; perhaps inside each of us lies a bottomless abyss. Who wants to share that deep, dark valley floor with another person?