Lately, I’ve been really into writing again. But this time, the intensity has grown higher day by day. What used to be just one piece a day has now turned into five or more topics in a single day. Interesting, right? I think so too. Within a month, I can draft more than a dozen pieces. For now, most of them remain private — drafts I keep for myself to read — but one day, you might find them in a bookstore, or maybe I’ll just leave them here on this blog. All I ask is for your prayers: may this passion for writing never fade away again like it did back in 2021, hahaha.
One thing I’ve realized about myself and my writing is that each piece holds a small fragment of hope I can cling to every day. Whatever feeling I’m carrying, I always pour it into words. Nothing is left behind. I only pray that my laptop’s keyboard doesn’t get tired from being used every single day. Stay healthy, my dear laptop. The truth is, I feel more alive through my writing. I can sense the breath of life I pour into every piece. If you think that only humans, animals, and plants can live, you’re wrong — words can have life too. They can carry messages even humans can’t always say out loud. That’s what I’m doing, and will always keep doing: making my writing alive, so others can feel its presence — whether as a friend or as a magical phrase that helps them find a reason to keep living.
Ah, and if I could choose, I would spend my entire day writing in my room, at my study desk, without worrying about my thesis, or how my days will pass. I would gladly live like that every day. But this is the life I’ve chosen: to go through the hard days as they are. And writing will always be my first choice whenever life feels like it’s playing tricks on me.
If I’m being honest, the hundreds of pieces I’ve already published here on this blog have given me their own kind of strength. I reread them before bed or whenever I feel like checking what I was up to in 2020. It’s like replaying an old video of my days, and it gives me the power to move forward. The same goes for the short stories I’ve written on Medium — I often revisit them to relearn how the characters I created lived their lives: how they rose from rock bottom, how they fell in love, how they grieved, and how they healed. I know them all by heart.
And in the end, when loneliness creeps in, I can always find a reason to be okay again — because of me, and because of my hundreds of stories. They are what brought me here, what shaped me into who I am today.
So if I were to say thank you, my very first gratitude would go to myself and my hundreds of stories. Thank you for walking with me on this journey. Thank you for embracing me in moments of loneliness. Thank you for giving me strength to keep going. I hope that I and my hundreds of stories won’t just be a source of strength for myself, but also for thousands of others out there.
And for you, who always take the time to read my words — thank you. I hope tonight someone is there to embrace you and whisper a thousand words of love in your ear. I hope your days flow gently. I hope the unsent greetings to your loved ones find their way at the right time.
Thank you, myself, and thank you to all the countless journeys we’ve walked through. May your steps remain strong enough to keep moving forward, through all the wonderful days that are still waiting ahead.
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