I remember having this metaphysical experience when I was a kid.

I felt I was floating in the universe.

In the blackness and stillness, despite being awake, I felt like I existed in a different place.

I felt a fulfilling sense of depth.

A belonging.

It made me ask myself who I am.

What I am.

I’ve been wanting to experience that again. 

To find an answer–a satisfying answer.

Two decades later, I know.

But I also want to feel.


That belonging.

Being one.

Going home.



Talking about random things with people just to be polite is a skill anyone should master.

It’s not so bad.

It’s more like finding a safer topic to discuss with people you’re not too open with, but have to talk to anyway.


Trouble starts when you lose appreciation for other people’s effort.

When nothing is good enough.

When only what’s lacking is seen.

Appreciation is important to any harmonious relationship.


Checked out insomnia.

I’m not sure if what I have is insomnia.

It’s not that I have difficulties sleeping.

If I feel tired enough or the surroundings are peaceful enough, when I do hit that bed, I sleep like a log.

It’s more like I don’t want to sleep.

Like I’m in a trance and just can’t get my body to bed.

Like I still have to do something.

Mind overdrive?

So I made this post.


I’m scared to live all by myself in one house.

I think I’ll forever be alert.

I still couldn’t shake off my childhood monsters lurking in the shadows.

Supernatural stuff.

And then there’s real monster people.

And housing is still too expensive. 

But if ever, one housemate is all I need.

In a small home.

With a nice kitchen.

And a little garden.