It all started that day when one of my friends from high-school brought a novel, The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan. I used to believe that reading novels was a girl thing, boys were more into comic books or mangas. But then I saw him reading it during lunch or something. I asked him what he's reading and asked if I could try reading it. I read a few pages and not long after that day, I bought my own copy of the book and its sequels, The Throne of Fire and The Serpent's Shadow. Those were the very first novels I ever own. It was less than a drop of water in an ocean, but it fills me with something I never knew existed before.
It's been some time since that day and I've read more books. But the same sensation still persists whenever I finish any book since the day I borrowed my friend's book: I want more.
Lazy. Disorganized. Unfocused. Impatience. Visionless.
I am all of the above and more. In the face of real talents, you would realize how much of a hack you are. The facade. The pretend. The shortcuts I use to justify my lack of discipline. The excuses I exhausted. The blame I threw to anyone but myself. The time I wasted longing for something I know I don't deserve. I want to be better, but got beaten each time by my own hands. Tiny victories. Great losses. Endless. Torturing. Maddening.
In fifth (or sixth) grade, when the teacher asked me one day to choose between my classmates on who's going to race with me circling a soccer field in one lap, I chose the most athletic ones between my friends. I lost of course, they ran faster than me because they're physically stronger and fitter. It was not such a big deal at the time. But I remember this moment again by the time I was graduated from college. It reminded me of my final project I was doing during my final years. It started with me choosing the worst supervisor anyone could choose at the time. My mindset at the time was: if I want to know how high I can jump, how improved I've become over three years of studying; I want to choose the highest wall of all, the worst among the worst supervisors. I realize now that it's one of my natures to do this kind of thing. Thinking of how glorious it would be if I could slay the most dangerous dragon without thinking rationally about the chance of getting eaten alive. However, unlike that day when my athetic friends beat me easily, I won this time. Despite all odds, I fought fairly until very end, until finally I submitted my revision with the supervisor's signature on it to the faculty. I thought I would feel something at that point. Happiness. Relief. Anything. But what I felt was nothing.
My supervisor died a few days after I had submitted the revision. I thought I would feel something. Sad that someone I knew passed away. Or happy that the other students under his supervision would be handed to someone else and would possibly graduated easier. But no. I just felt numb at that point. I honestly didn't feel anything.
I've overcome the wall. I've proven what I wanted to prove. I've paid my debt of that day in the soccer field. But what have I got in return? Where's that glory that I seek? What have I sacrificed to be the person that I am right now? It's all bullshit. All of it. Win or lose. It's all hollow.
The storms within my soul are raging. The wind blows to every horizontals and verticals that it could, harboring cold death and screaming madness. At the eye of the storm was the paradise that's promised to me. It's invisible within the chaos of hatred and fear that lives and thrives in the chamber of my soul. The sane voice in my head wants to cower behind a rock and pray that the universe grants me another day to live. The universe giveth, the universe taketh away. I should've listened, but sanity was wrong. The universe was never sane in the first place. It's chaotic in its orders. Undeterministic within its consistency. Deadly disguised as friendly. Ask any philosophers or scientists where their rationality and science end? Death. Fatality. And that's what the universe is. What human nature is. But I set my eyes toward the eye of the storm. Toward the paradise that's probably not even there. Taking my steps forward with the pace of a pathetic snail. Death is not coming for me today. I'm coming for it.
2019 is behind us now. End of a chapter, not of a journey.
2020 is here. And I can't see the future, so I can only hope that I can live a normal life for another year. Not involved in another stupid shits. Hopefully. I don't know. It's not like I have another choice, but to just, you know, live.
Anyway, I have things I want to do this year. Fun things? Of course. Pointless? Absolutely. Chance of success? Astronomical. Why? Because!
Road to #100 will start at New Year's Eve. It's going to be a year-long thing. Started right when the clock strikes midnight.
Journal will end with #60 and replaced with something a little like Paradise End called Fragments of the Past. Maybe two or three titles each month. Practice makes perfect, is what they say.
I fucked up a lot of my plans this month. I got angry all the time. And then easily lost my focus. I think, after I had graduated, I developed an anger management problem. They're like an outburst. Sometimes visible from the outside, but most of the times just happen inside. I don't know if it's because an ego thing or what. I feel like, I was an arrogant asshole before. And now I'm an arrogant asshole but with a degree. Just like that person. Oh, fuck I don't want to be anything like that person. Someone actually compared me to that person once. He meant it as a compliment. But, I was like, "Oh, no. It's happening."
Sorry, getting a little side-tracked there. Last time, I said that the main domain would be live at the start of the year. That's not going to happen now because of what I've said earlier. It's very incomplete and I have so much other stuff to do. It's one of many things I failed to accomplish this month. God, I need help.
This last butterfly is a shy and quiet creature. It sings the tales of the braves and cowards. Of promised lands and looming disasters.
Try to listen not with your ears, but with your beating heart. Close your eyes slowly and feel the vibrating cosmos around you.
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