I write often when something stirs within me. But as words take shape, I uncover what I often ignore—the impermanence of everything. We crave change when it suits us and grasp at stability when life feels right. Yet, all things shift, and sooner or later, even joy must bow to the law of impermanence, leaving us face to face with our own helplessness before nature’s unyielding truth.

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What is not hidden from me, I ignore. I usually try to look for what may not even exist.

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Have I truly reached my destination, or is this just another insurmountable obstacle to overcome? ls this really the end, or is there still more to go beyond? What is it that l'm failing to grasp or understand? Is this limitation inherent to the path
l've chosen, or is it my own personal constraint that holds me back? Perhaps I'm tempted to blame the path for its perceived shortcomings, simply to avoid confronting my own sense of emptiness.
Maybe I crave the comfort of believing in destiny as a means to escape the weight of responsibility that comes with absolute freedom.

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Eventually if you truely wish to change something about yourself then these changes should be made at the level of identity, you will be more comfortable doing things that aligns with your identity. If you consider yourself to be someone who worship "truth" and "knowledge" then it is more easy for you to read books and write as it becomes an act of Self Expression rather than daily painful chores

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I think I am the ultimate villain of my own story, and I don't really care about others' expectations of me. I want to forge my own path, driven by my own selfish interests. And as a villain, I've already accepted that there won't be a happy ending, which strangely, brings me a sense of relief.

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I just saw some people struggling for a seat. Others were taking pleasure and pride in the seats they had reserved. But the bottom line is, we're all on a journey. I wonder, what's the purpose of our life: is it to struggle to make our journey more comfortable or to focus on reaching our destination?"

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Does loneliness make you wise?
Or does wisdom lead to lonely skies?
A heavy heart and a mind so bright,
Which one is the cause, and which one is the light?

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This mind loves to doubt everything and everyone, but why don't I doubt this mind itself? It has invented thousands of ways to make me suffer. Yet, I have relentless faith in it. Do I even have any reason left to have faith in my eternal companion anymore?

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Existence weighs upon my soul
Lies and illusions, a fragile role
But do they change the truth I face?
Or merely hide the emptiness of space?

What if I, myself, am but a dream?
A fleeting thought, a moment's theme?
Does seeking refuge in illusions matter then?
Or is it just a temporary haven?

Hard truths are hard to accept and see
But difficulty doesn't make them cease to be
Perhaps I'm blind to what's truly real
Unwilling to confront, to dare and feel

Existence' mystery, I dare to explore
Questioning all, including myself once more
For in the unknown, truth may reside
And illusions shattered, my soul may abide.

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A subtle trap, I avoid with grace
Desire's sweet whisper, can fill an empty space
A state of calm, where yearning fades away
But chasing it, can bring a new desire to stay

A paradox blooms, like a moonlit flower
Longing's gentle touch, can be its own darkest hour
I'll watch the dance, with a quiet mind
Embracing the now, where peace and love entwine

In stillness, I'll find my peaceful nest
Where desire's wings, no longer stir unrest

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