laptopsnacks

Five years after Wei Ying's passing, Lan Zhan writes him a short letter. . . . Dear Wei Ying, This morning, I woke up with the sudden realization that all memories of you I hold onto so tightly; your face, your laugh, your witty comments, your booming smile, are starting to fade. With every passing day, my fear of forgetting you grows stronger. These memories are all I have, as there is nothing else to remember you by. There was, and is, no one else quite like you. You stormed into every situation at full speed; chaotic, fearless, intense, beaming. You were intelligent, powerful, empathetic, and so, so selfless. You were admirable, and the world let you down when they failed to recognize that. I hate it more than anything else, seeing you being wronged. Hearing made-up rumors about the Yiling Patriach, each one worse and more inaccurate than the one before. Wei Ying, I am not a man of many words, and there's nothing I regret more than the things I left unsaid.

Entering the seventh week of this semester means that I only have seven weeks left as a student, after which, I'll be done for good. And yet, I am nowhere near feeling ready to face the real world. Nowhere near figuring out what I want and where I want to be. I walk the path of privilege my parents paved for me and blow one day after another, with irresponsible lifestyle, bad sleeping patterns, and absent of drive and ambition. In every sense of the word, I have regressed. Two years ago I performed a duet onstage and was in debating, which was the furthest from my comfort zone I've ever been. Just a year ago, I was organizing an art exhibition, running an international Scrabble tournament, securing sponsorship for a charity-centered project, and heading an art bazaar. Currently, I'm a nobody, doing nothing, who spends 4-5 hours a day on Youtube. What worries me the most is the regret which will come with completing my degree. I spent the past three years half-assing t