I am not sure what I am doing. But I’m braving the tide. I’m absolutely grateful for the grant of a six-month study leave in my favor. I can study in my own pace and pursue healing at the same time. The goal now is simply to pass the Bar Exams. That is if the Universe has already reserved the first 10 slots to the highly privileged. In the 29th floor of the building where I stay, the silence is different, unforgiving. At times, I find myself drifting from here and there, and smitten at another time by the concept of riding a motorcycle. The most cathartic of it all, I remember every unspoken detail of life.
Then I thought of writing, hopeful that it could heal whatever is broken in me. That writing could appease the arguments in my mind. That it could teach me to forgive those who neither asked for it nor deserved it; and figure out how to live a peaceful life amid the drifting from here and there. Because sometimes, writing is far better than speaking what’s inside my mind. And learn finally that not everyone understands. Not everyone is a friend. Some simply fake it. Others pretend. Some people are simply strategic of the vulnerable, the hurting, the broken, the lost. I want my healing or drifting from here and there more about being in one piece again without being used or spending so much money to fake companies.
Being alone isn’t easy. But realizing you’re in wrong friendships is tragic. So, imma write to shake off the loneliness and pain of this journey instead. I don’t know what lies ahead but I simply want to start living at the same time. I began this journey at 20. Being strong all the time has already exhausted all my energy and drained my youth. I’m giving this another try, not because it’s a dream. But because I simply want to finish what I started. And I found writing, along with drifting from here and there, safer than engaging in short-term feel-good dopamine to get this through.