Call me Zhe. Some days ago—never mind how long precisely—having little attention within my control, and a variety of things to distract me on the Internet, I thought I would write a little and document the inner part of myself. It is a way I plan to reclaim my consciousness and regulate the behaviors. Whenever I find myself recalling embarrassing events from the past; whenever there is a dark, tranquil void in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily reaching for my phone, and scrolling to my detriment; and especially whenever my ego replenishes snobbish contempt, so that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from harboring indignation, I account it high time to write as soon as I can.