I was sitting in the middle of a nice garden already thinking how it will change my life, then it didn’t.
It was late at night of composing essays and self-sell anecdotes thinking how it will change my life, then it didn’t.
It was like this back and forth throughout the year. Every time I say I give up, I tell myself ‘one more,’ on and on until I get tired, but then I don’t. Sound courageous for some, persistent maybe, but looks crazy to me.
Maybe the craziness can lead to better things in the future. Maybe. I don’t know. The world really has its way of real-talking you without actually or literally ‘talking.’
BUT I did great on other aspects. I probably knew myself better than the previous years and I probably mature a little bit compare to the years before – hopefully. 2021 was a year of failure – it is true. It was a year of constant reminding myself to hang on tight and believe you’ll get there where you want to be. Maybe we need these things to enjoy the victories we are yet to attain, to love the life we are living even in its simplicity, and to have fun in the solitude the world enforced us into.
I am very happy for all the people I know who consider this year as their year of victory. Maybe I get my turn, too, who knows when but I really do hope it happens. I hope all my hard work will pay off or maybe not, we’ll never be sure. This year I’m grateful for my and my family’s good health – it is a privilege to live, really; it was an honor to fight.
For now I rest and pause the battle. I hope soon enough I can look back to this year, remember how it made me feel, but be okay about it. I hope soon I find purpose of my downfalls and the scarcity of my success. Urgently I hope I find comfort with my wounds; I hope I find laughter in my pitfalls.