.the four even strokes

Paradiddle, reverberating.

Just another few days before Rejab.



.of hopeless emptiness and getting better at lying

There are days that I am struggling to articulate and verbalize my own reasoning. There are moments when I am distressed, withholding revere towards those I love – not that I am conceited – but more of terrified that it may be excruciatingly pointless. And I am well assured it won’t be pointless.

I can feel that I am ingrained, meandering through an unsurprising, definite path. I wish I can get myself off the gyration, enthusiastically leaping into the pursuit of bewildering repute. I have dreams, and as opposed to societal conviction of signing away for those next in line (or anybody else seems much more important), I want them in it. I want them to be the essential capacity of my dreams, accomplished.

Realignment, as what people we said.

But it is all formidable being known as an excellent planner, but a very primitive executor. I guess this was the main determinant of all sudden and mortifying disappointments in my immediate past, and even after years, I still have no idea how to tame it.

I must say that now, everything is in vain. And to satisfy myself, I need time. Suddenly time ticks so fast I wished I could slow it down. I don’t think I have much allotted span left. I must execute. I must calling the shots, every time. I cannot ceased to retain another second, abusing it with wrath and rage. I must regain composure, get a grip and start enkindling happiness.

Wish of the day: Beach.

.What happened before 2019?

I think the most difficult part of failure is not the failure at all. It is to acknowledge our limited power that breaks us the most. There comes a realization that we don’t share each other dreams, and sometimes, it takes a lot to find values in a relationship tarnished and biased with standards, hierarchy, and things that look good. 

Well, we usually give a little less attention to people that have a little less of something.

2018 was not entirely invisible. It was the year that marked my personal battle against the acknowledgment of own failure. I was denial. Maybe a bit delusional, and sometimes lost. I was influenced badly, mistreated and misled. I planted new ideas which bloomed artificially.

You know that God makes each of us unique. We are here in this world with specific responsibilities. It is not all of us were born to teach kids manners and ABCs. Not every one of us were born to heal people. Not all of us meant to be millionaires. Not all of us are great scholars and win the Nobel Prize. Only few of us use their bare hands constructing skyscrapers.

I mean, we live our own purpose. One that satisfies us.