library

Anthony de Mello – "Awareness", "Call to Love"
Ingmar Bergman – "The Seventh Seal"

writings

19-12-2025

words are merely an approximation of reality

20-12-2025

i finished showering and turned off the light.
i stood in complete darkness for a few minutes.
i turned the light on, looked in the mirror and realised my face's core features had been unaffected by whether or how it was perceived

26-12-2025

overcome evil with good

i had not their conditions and they had not mine.
i had mine, they had theirs.

you had no one's conditions but yours

27-12-2025

thank heavens the world is more than black and white

– this day is so fucked
– has been so far!

30-12-2025

i feel happy seeing snow. it highlights what little light dwells in the long winter nights.
it makes the cars slow down, too.

01-01-2026

is it not so that anything anyone says about anything speaks only of themselves and nothing else

31-01-2026

it might be hard to accept for some that one can be seriously joyful

01-03-2026

coming to terms with feeling empty; i'm befriending the guy. doesn't talk, doesn't act, yet i find
their presence moving. i'm taking him to my social circle tomorrow

16-03-2026

1. Abusing Her (His Vice Over Her Evils)
2. Abusing Him (His Evils Under Her Vice)
3. All So They Can Feel Loved (Their Suffering They Can't Heal)

19-03-2026

i ain't a born sinner. neither are you. nobody is

14-05-2026

don't confuse hopeless "it doesn't matter" with enlightened "it doesn't matter"

22-05-2026

lying on the ground at night, i see an image.
the stars in the center with their lights small, dim, yet very clear in the night sky.
the street lamps all around the perimeter with their lights bright, broad and attention-turning.
i didn't evolve to see that much light at night. it's confusing. it's too bright now.

i look for it, and then i see it. the saucepan, or, more officially, Charles's Wain.
i try to remember which segment it was. the short one furthest from the handle, or from the shaft.
then several steps up roughly in a straight line and i find the north star.

it's not the brightest light i see. it's not even the brightest star in the sky. it's a regular, lone star.
but seeing it, i can now use it as a reference point whichever way i want to go.

but it becomes impossible to see if i'm staring at a bright street lamp,
the light of which shrinks the pupil, blinding me to what's above.
it confuses the bugs that come near. as they mistake it for the sun, they fly in erratic paths, trying to adjust
their lives to an unnatural object posing as the primordial source of life.
as i move and turn, all those bright lights come and go quickly, whilst the north star remains above my head wherever i wander.
it's a humble one, yet has more value for navigation than all the artificial lights combined.

even with all the other lights bleeding into my vision, i need to remember my north star.
a source of order and direction.
a reminder of what matters.

14-06-2026

afra1d to be normal. even if the way i achieve being special is by being tragically underwhelming
being normal makes me think of doing nothing interesting and stagnating. work, eat, clean, wash, sleep
although does it have to be that way?
i'm afraid of losing online entertainment… but so was i afraid of losing my ex, fearing i'll never find
anyone like her and i'll be lonely for the rest of my life
nowadays i hope i'll never find anyone like her!
anyway, it doesn't have to be all or nothing with it. doing 2 hours of online quizzes i find fun a few times
a week, once i'm done with duties, wouldn't dominate my life. same if i were to spend an hour a day on discord.
i feel more afraid now. what's at stakes is my identity. the one of a "special loser". i'm afraid of losing it.
even though the life stemming from it is not my dream life at all. actually, exactly.
this is not my dream life at all.
it's familiar and it feels safe. predictable. the types of discomfort are predictable and known.

16-06-2026

i am not a tragic character. this archetype has been an extremely accurate description of my life up to this point.
all the potential, and all the underwhelm and disappointments. all the desires, so strong, yet unmet.
heartbreaking to look at him. you may feel sorry for him, but also disappointed.
it's like his story emanates gloom and absorbs positivity from his surroundings.

i am not a tragic character. it's a false identity.