i've been back home almost a week now. in another couple of weeks, another life awaits: the adult life. a full time job. politics. responsibilities.
responsibilities.
there's the responsibilities to others and then there's the responsibilities to self. i've always been rather reckless with the latter. i've come to realize in recent years that a lot of what i had done was out of obligations to satisfy other people. somehow i had got it into me that making others happy would bring joy to my own existence. come to think of it, those moments are far and few between. i think i was afraid that doing things for the pleasure of none other than myself would make me a selfish person for we've all been taught that selfishness goes against everything that is virtuous and "right". the fear was very real, albeit an invisible fear; a self imposed one.
but then one day i decided not to give a fuck anymore. i don't exactly recall what triggered it, but something did and i've never felt better since. i started doing things that made me happy. i started to enjoy my life instead of dreading what might come up. i started being comfortable with who i am.
i guess sometimes it's ok to be a little selfish. because it's just me now.
me vs. the world.
+listening to: flume by bon iver
Wednesday, June 20
| the start of another life | ![]() |
Sunday, January 15
| snow blind | ![]() |
12 degrees F weather and snowing - it couldn't get any more perfect. for once, snow is actually a good thing: an opportunity to throw caution to the wind and try some crazy stuff because crashing wouldn't be such a bad thing at all with a cushion-y soft landing, i just get a bunch of snow on me.
riding off road is definitely exhilarating and scary at the same time but then again, i haven't had this much fun in quite a while. and the trusty yeti finally got to be "in its element", so to speak.
+listening to: snow blind by black sabbath
Tuesday, December 27
| a time for everything | ![]() |
It's been exactly a month to the day since i last wrote something here. it felt a little pointless, a little uninspired.
i took some time off to find that excitement that got me clicking away on my worn down keyboard, the same way that one's legs need reacquainting when one has been off the bicycle for extended periods of time. writing here is probably the closest i would come to being in the shoes of some unknown writer holed up in a brownstone somewhere along the tree lined streets in the west village of new york city. and the keyboard on my trusty old laptop would have to suffice for the the lack of that mechanical "charm" of typewriters from days gone by.
it's a rainy evening here in brooklyn; 57 degrees out no less at the end of december for no good reason. with the promise of sunshine and an early morning stroll in central park, i couldn't ask for more even if i wanted. there's ample food in my belly, tatum's tunes have never sounded so good to my ears and i get to spend time with an someone i truly appreciate - this moment is pretty much perfect.
for a split second i remembered this is right where i started. i lived to record these moments in writing so one day i'd be able to revisit them and relive these precious memories. somehow it makes up for all those not so good ones. while it is true that we should always try to live our lives in the present tense, nostalgia done tastefully has that same effect as frying chicken - it just tend to make you feel better about life.
+listening to: i've got a world on a string by art tatum




