I got sick again this month. That makes it the second time this year. Felt really horrible. I guess I overdid some things. Shouldn't have inhaled years worth of dust for hours without a mask on.

The thing about getting sick is how you say and do things that you didn't mean to say to people around you. I wonder why is that. Is it just to let them know you're suffering? Or to make them suffer as much as you do? It's like some diseases or viruses. Gotta share all the pain to the rest of the world.

I worry too much again. Never know when I say or do too much or too little. I just know I did wrong. Is it worth it though? Blaming yourself for every little mistake. Stuffing all those existential questions inside your nasty old brain just to see how they would make you feel. Does it make you feel better or worse? Probably the latter.

I got an old monitor to use for stuff, but it broke down just two days after I used it. It seemed to me that I've used up all my luck on my graduating. No Lady Fortune taking care of all your problems for you anymore there, little buddy.

As much as I want to talk about the bitter part of the apple, I have to admit that I've been in a great place in life for the last couple of months. Sometimes I took it for granted when surely there's a lot of people that would gladly be where I'm right now. Sometimes I could only see the dark spots of the canvas because it's easier to do so. I really hope it will last for a long time. But one thing I learn from my father's experience is to always look out for the worst-case scenario, never get too comfortable, and maintain my own independence. Maybe the worst will happen, or not. But it never hurts to be ready for it. Five to ten years from now things might not be as convenient as today.

I'd finished quite a lot of books earlier this month before I got sick. The Fifth to Die which is an epic continuation of 4MK series (The third book just came out this month!). The Children of Ruin which I should've finished two months ago but I got lazy, which is also epic. Carrie which is pretty short but very sad and very epic. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? which is very confusing but also epic.

Now, I'm trying to finish Exhalation by Ted Chiang which is the deepest book I've read in a while. It's like Black Mirror or Love, Death, & Robots. Also starting on Different Seasons by Stephen King, Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson (still haven't finished the first book), and Hyperion by Dan Simmons. So many good books, so little time. :(

August last year I restarted doing Saturday Book Review by writing the review of Dark Matter. Since then, I'd written the reviews of another 38 amazing books. There's a tiny sense of pride in realizing how, despite everything that happened, I can keep doing this thing that I deeply care about. It's silly, but then again, I don't remember doing anything else consistently for one full year. So, it's something, I guess.

I'm thinking of doing side projects beside work. Maybe something small. I need some positive and healthy distractions. Also thinking about some long-term thing. Maybe it will take like 2/3 months before this thing takes a tangible form, but I think it's going to be worth the effort. Hopefully.

And a new kitten found a way to the front of our house yesterday. She's so noisy that I couldn't sleep well for 2 days. Also, Kiwi went to vet today. She's already as big as her siblings. Time flies.