Chapter 9 - 8.5 : A Cool Place to Waste Time
Franz sat on his bike, cigarette between his fingers, watching the entrance of the college through the thin veil of smoke. The campus loomed ahead, students moving in clusters, chatting, some rushing, some laughing. He took another drag, exhaled, and flicked the ashes away.
THREE DAYS BEFORE
The first morning after waking up, he looked around his apartment and decided that if he was going to live here, it might as well match his taste.
’This place looks like a prison cell.’
[Unnecessary. Your current living conditions are sufficient.]
’Yeah, and Soviet blocks were sufficient too. Doesn’t mean they weren’t depressing.’
Thus began a battle of necessity versus impulse. He bought unnecessary and impractical things—spray paint for graffiti, paintings that had no business being in anyone’s living room, a heavy industrial lamp that looked like it belonged in a warehouse rather than an apartment.
[You are wasting funds on illogical purchases.]
’You are wasting energy on arguments you won’t win.’
The system fell silent after that.
On the second day, he decided he needed a hobby. He scrolled through various options before settling on a Gemeinhardt Alto Flute—black in color, sleek, something that wouldn’t look too small in his hands.