After finishing the previous book, I went for the next item on my to-read list. I felt some qualm of having to wrangle it off somebody else's hand because it was in the status of being checked out when I reserved it. Then a few days later, the book was returned and I went and picked up the book. The lady at the library patiently helped me, who stormed into the library right as it was closing, locate the reserved book. Then as I turned over the cover page, somebody wrote in pencil 'enjoy! xx'. It just felt everybody around me was so kind-hearted. Then I walked outside the library and some drawings caught my eyes. I talked to the artist and he explained to me some of the meanings of the drawings. I bought a print as a token of appreciation. I rarely buy things because they become baggage that weighs me down and more importantly I have been too cold-hearted to care for others. When you were originally from a cruel world, you are ever so vigilant of getting swindled. As I walked away with the print, I thought about that this chance encounter might be the first and last of our interaction... Why are there so many people in the world? Why don't they last long enough for me to have the honour of talking to?

Aside:

On the day you came to the conclusion that you were aromantic, somebody said it to your face that you were hopelessly romantic. Hence your quest for identity reached a chaotic end.