3.14

3.14

That's a pi number.

March, 14 is a pi number.

Which is also my birthday. 


I was thinking about a lot of things I wanted to write here, but then they lost along the way. In short, to say that last year was a challenge is an understatement. Several days ago, I realized I may have fully completed everything that  I should have felt. It started with happiness in 2017, love followed the next year, the sadness, loneliness in between, and depression came after that, the last feeling I remember having to possessed greatly was anger. And after cleansing myself on the birthday, (literally taking shower, brush my teeth and washed my hair) I felt nothing. Which was probably the state that I was looking for. I have no longer the desire to hope or to expect. Both are tough job for my mind. But in the other hand, I no longer have the plan stopping living. All I am going to do is just to go on, doing whatever I can, to earn money, to eat, to watch the things I like, maybe to travel if I have money, to participate if the chance appears, just to not to die, but not too live too much. And in case if you think that I'm withering, please don't see me that way. I am never going to be a boring person. Odd stuffs will still bump into me in future. Weird is my tribe. And my vibe will never fail to attract them. 

Physically I am exhausted. I kept losing the fat (good thing), but if this thing continues, I'd be just a walking skull. That's because I'm traying this new job. And even though it's not that very physical (as I have planned), it took my time greatly. It's been a couple of weeks now. It pays enough sometimes, but I have cried several times during it. And sleeping? It's like I never had any. I will not disclose the job  now, maybe sometime later. But the CV that I had provided was all meant for the cleaning service position that I have been wanted to do. The current one, if it eats too much of me, I would leave it next month, and started applying other ones. In the meantime, I'm happy enough I can pay for my food and rent.

What about my writing? I have no plan of leaving it, but it seems sometimes they wanted to go away. I see that writing is the only company that would be loyal to me till the end. But like the most of things that we love, if we love them sincerely enough, we let them go when they want to leave, and we welcome them when it's time to rekindle. 

For me, currently, writing and the literary scene is not that important, I couldn't care less. To pay rent and debt and food are my priority #1. 

This birthday, was special, though there was no cheesecake, or celebratory, or anything (never had any anyway), but it marked the 10th extra unexpected years that I received. When I was young, I had the idea that I wouldn't passed certain age (27), but look at me now, just hanging for a more ten years! I should be looking forward to another ten years though I'm feeling quite old. 

That's it for now, I have no birthday wish. 

Here's my latest pic, in case you want to see:



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