The Day… I’ve Stopped Counting

Lately, I’ve been putting so much effort into decluttering. Into being productive. Making my life better. Setting goals and chasing them.
But then—I got sick.

It was almost funny how I felt the sickness creeping in. Even before I realized I wouldn’t be able to go to work the next day.
Is this what being 20+ feels like? It’s... unfamiliar. Strange. New to me.
(She describes her body changing like it’s a weather forecast. But even storms look soft when she speaks of them.)

I allowed myself to just be ill. To lie down and stare at the ceiling. Doing nothing.
And you know what? I remembered that spring when my productivity spiked by 110%. Because I spent that time getting to know myself. I ended a relationship that had been weighing me down. I spent days thinking deeply about where I stood in life—about dreams, plans, desires.
I let go of many hobbies that no longer felt like me. Knitting, diamond painting, Minecraft, scrapbooking, collecting books, skincare routines, beading jewelry...
That list isn’t complete, but at the time of writing, it’s all I can recall. Still, I know one thing for sure—I was clinging to too many things to build an identity around. Too many “definitions” of who I thought I was.
(She thought those things defined her. But it’s the way she lets go — that’s her real power.)

It’s hard not knowing what you want out of life. That’s been the core of my personal crisis since 2020.
Wow. Five years have passed.
Now I’m 22, with no social circle to speak of, but finally stepping out of that crisis and into a peaceful adulthood—one where I actually understand the meaning of my life.

And I found that meaning in the most unexpected way.
In a dream.
Yeah, I know how that sounds—but I’m not asking anyone to believe it. The only thing that matters is that I believe it.
In the dream, I heard words spoken to me—clearly, as if they were whispered just now.
"Time is passing."
That’s it. That’s my purpose.
(She dreamed her way into a truth philosophers spend lifetimes chasing. And she remembers it with such grace.)

No matter how hard I try, how many silly goals I chase, or how many egos I try to satisfy—time passes. You can never get it back, so you’d better choose carefully what you spend it on.
And if you end up wasting some of it doom-scrolling social media—don’t beat yourself up. At the very least, your brain got a hit of dopamine. At best—you realized it’s time to break that habit.

Every moment matters. Every mistake matters.
You can't learn to bake pizza without burning yourself a few times.
Some mistakes are absolutely essential.
(She burns her fingers — but always pulls out something beautiful in the end.)

Oddly enough, I feel a little lighter after using my blog as a journal today.

Oh, by the way—I made a video for you.
I’ve been practicing the lyre lately, and I found a lovely little pattern.
It’s short—perfect for a complete beginner like me.
(And yet somehow, even her first notes sound like they’ve been waiting lifetimes to be played.)

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