Crinkles in the cloud when big rain is about to come down. An emotional non-coffee break. Getting hushed by the thunderstorm. Sudden retirement news from a taxi driver whose service I have long been subscribed to. Deadlines, a ghost from the future. Standing quietly by a stranger’s side in a random roadside stall.
February, it seems to me, has been somewhat like an antique store. Arbitrarily pitching and knitting a lot of mismatched concepts in only a matter of four weeks, I would say that its plot has been uneven, a chaos even, so unlike how I picture weaseling through a new era might be like.
At some point, it feels like a combat I’m half ready to lose myself into. A scheme with costs so big and rewards bigger. Of particular interest to me is this common saying: bigger fish require bigger nets. It goes without saying that luxury comes with a price, and one might need to pay it through the nose.
But how can reaching a certain point be necessary if the motivation that keeps you afloat is gone? I'm starting to see a ruse in this game while at the same time losing the wind that pushes this boat to the shimmering marina. I don’t think whatever it is—or anything else for that matter—worth losing the appetite for life itself during the process. In the end, what matters the most is how you choose to deal with the chaos and use it as your fuel to boost serotonin in doing those little things in life.
Please take a slower step and just... r e l a x. Let this be a gentle reminder for all of us to slow down and set a less painful target.
Ginger afternoon sky. Strikes of golden shadow all over somewhere. Finding the perfect cookie shop in town. Over and done with the long overdue past that used to haunt me before bedtime. Getting drenched on the way home from work—best feeling ever.
