The Needle That Won‘t Go In
Old Wang has been troubled lately. To be precise, it has been for a while. Since he joined the company's "sleep optimization" program, he has had to lie on a special "sleep optimization bed" every night. This bed, more of a technological cocoon, monitors your sleep data and uses micro-current stimulation to "optimize" your sleep quality.
The problem lies in this "optimization." Old Wang is an honest man. From childhood to adulthood, he did what his teachers told him. When the company said optimizing sleep was good, he believed it. But he found that the fine needle that detects sleep wouldn't go into the sensor port on his arm. Every night, he tried and tried again with that small hole, his hand almost worn out, but it just wouldn't go in.
At first, Old Wang thought it was his clumsiness. He specially consulted the company's technician. The technician fiddled with it, also with a puzzled look, "The port is fine, are you sure you are holding it right?" Old Wang followed the technician's instructions and tried for a few more days, but the result was still the same. He even began to suspect if his body structure was different from others.
Old Wang started posting for help on the company forum, saying he couldn't insert the needle. The post was quickly submerged in various "sleep tips" sharing posts. Occasionally, someone would reply to him, joking: "Old Wang, are you too excited, causing the port to shrink?" "Could it be that the needle is too dull, try a new one?"
Old Wang tried every possible solution. He used a magnifying glass to carefully observe the needle tip, confirming that there was no problem; he even used alcohol to disinfect, ensuring the port was clean. He felt like he was performing an absurd ritual, repeating the needle insertion action every night. But that needle, as if having its own will, just wouldn't go in.
As days passed, Old Wang watched his colleagues energetic and working with amazing efficiency, feeling indescribable anxiety. He couldn't enter "optimized sleep" every night, and he was always drowsy at work the next day. The leader started talking to him, implying that if he couldn't adapt to "optimization," he might have to consider a job change.
Old Wang was even more desperate. He felt like a loser abandoned by the times. He began to wonder if he was not suitable for this era. Could it only be normal if one could insert that needle?
One weekend, Old Wang decided to completely relax. He went to an old park in the suburbs. There were few people in the park, only a few old people playing chess. Old Wang found a bench and sat down, looking at the old trees in the distance. He suddenly remembered when he was a child, he often used branches to draw on the ground.
He picked up a twig and drew a circle on the ground, and then drew a small dot in the circle. He stared at this simple pattern, suddenly realizing that the needle, like this small dot, seemed so tiny in the face of an infinite circle.
He took out the needle and gently inserted it into his arm.
This time, there was no resistance. The needle smoothly entered the sensor port. Old Wang was stunned. He felt that something in his body had completely collapsed.
He looked at the needle in his arm and suddenly felt a wave of nausea. He suddenly pulled out the needle and threw it on the ground. The needle reflected a cold light in the sunlight.
He got up and walked out of the park without looking back. He did not go home, nor did he go to work. He just walked along the road, kept walking. He felt like he had broken free from something, but also lost something. He felt a sense of unprecedented ease and confusion.
Until night fell, Old Wang walked into a secluded alley. He saw a young man, holding a fine needle, looking confused while attempting to insert it into his arm.
"Can't get it in?" Old Wang asked.
The young man nodded, looking frustrated.
Old Wang smiled and patted the young man’s shoulder lightly.
"It's okay, you'll get used to it."
The young man looked up, staring at Old Wang in confusion.
Old Wang didn't say anything more. He turned around and continued walking into the deeper darkness. He knew that he might never be able to escape this absurd world, but at least he knew that he was not alone in this struggle. And perhaps, not being able to insert the needle is the most normal symptom of this era.