Cleaning Up
Finally I could relax, after a whole year of hard working.
I was cleaning up the room, throwing away papers that had been in my hard disck, and preparing for moving out.
This room is lovely. I think I am going to miss it.
After a year of living and studying here, I begin to have a feeling of home. Indeed home is where the heart dwells. My heart rejoices when critical thoughts flash both in class and table talk, perspectives are shared by many brilliant scholars, for whom the world is not broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls. What more could I expect?
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