I took just a few days off, and along with that, I took a break from thinking about my original project. My mind loosened up a bit. Not that nothing happened—but things felt slower, softer. I used being sick as an excuse. And for the first time in a long while, I met him. I felt genuinely glad. The place wasn’t anything special, but under the warm lights, talking felt cozy. He hadn't really changed. No, he hadn’t changed at all. The only one who had changed was me. I had changed.
As we talked about things we’d been putting off, fragments of the past surfaced. Like puzzle pieces snapping into place. What surprised me the most? Perfection. The perfection of it all shocked me. It was perfect. Like stones I had once tossed away, landing exactly where they were meant to be.
I came back with some homework. But as always, the way to solve it isn’t so clear. Maybe that’s the rule of the game—like hitting a limit. And that limit isn’t external. It’s inside my own heart.
I wish I could break through it quickly, cleanly. But time… it crawls. Or maybe I just need to enjoy this fleeting moment as it is. Oh, Samsara. Where do I even begin? How do I untangle this mess? I always wanted just one thing. But ironically, maybe it’s that very thing that kept me from getting what I wanted. It’s funny, isn’t it?
Still, there should be no regrets in a life striving for something greater. Like someone sculpting the perfect body avoiding junk food—some sweet temptations just aren’t compatible with the goal. You’ve got to stand firm. That’s what it means to be a man.
Realization
I remembered something. Something I’ve always known, but it came back to me, crystal clear: People can only act within the boundaries of what they’ve received. What’s normal for one person might be unthinkable for another. What matters isn’t what we want—it’s what we’ve been given, and what we choose to do with it. Those who stayed faithful to the small things… some of them watched their snowballs grow. And others? They shattered those snowballs entirely.
It’s been a hard few days. I’m still pretty exhausted. A stubborn illness doesn’t seem to change much—whether I take medicine or not. If anything’s changed, it’s just my attitude toward the same sickness. To endure it better. To carry it more lightly. And so another day passes.
Now, I’m ready to shift the game. A week of rest may have dulled me a bit, but I think it helped more than it hurt. I’m not broken. I’ve learned. I’ve figured out the rules. And I know exactly how far I’ve come.