Life's Illusion

How should I put it?

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the first thirty-five years of my life had been utterly unremarkable, ordinary as a textbook?

An ordinary middle school, an ordinary high school, an ordinary technical college, followed by an ordinary office-worker's life. I had worked in sales, sold insurance, been a community security guard for a few months, and done odd jobs at construction sites. In the end, I became a street vendor pushing a cart and selling fish balls.

My old father had kicked the bucket a few years ago. My mother was still at home, while I now lived at my younger sister's place. I only saw her a few times a year, around the Mid-Autumn Festival and Chinese New Year.

I didn't own any property. The place I was currently living in was somewhere I had moved into several years ago, and the rent had already doubled by now.

Fish Ball Qiang had really wanted to say boldly to that fat landlady, "I'm not renting this dump anymore!" ...but the rent outside was even more expensive.

I didn't have a girlfriend. Normally, I just frequented the red-light districts to take care of my physical needs.

Every day, I stayed in front of my fish-ball stall, scooping a few bowls of fish balls whenever customers came by, or cooking some hot-and-sour rice noodles. When there was no one around, I sat down to read newspapers, novels, or watch television.

My favorite beer was Budweiser. My favorite food was the instant noodles with egg and luncheon meat from the apartment building downstairs. The place I visited most often was a foot-massage parlor not far from the apartment.

I didn't have a girlfriend and lived alone. I had considered raising a kitten or puppy, but