There are many times when I just open this word editor to write something, not knowing what will come or what is on my mind or what I can afford to write about. I live my life amidst the greatest ambiguity I’ve felt since I can remember – this ambiguity is present in every aspects of my life and so far it’s contributed to my life only as friction instead of a driving force. The truth is that I am most comfortable when I make at least one part of my life stable and consistent; something to fall back on when everything else gets too out of hand and too controlled by others rather than myself.
But due to my current illness, the last aspect that was consistent – the gym – had to go and with it I lost a grip on time and space. Everything in life happens out of momentum that compounds interest over time even with small actions. Regular gym means regular protein intake, which in turn means less thoughts spent on deciding what to eat, which means more time to think about how my place is organized, which turns into mindfulness, which means more focus to continue those habits. When I trade stability for ambiguity, consistent work for reckless fun, commitment for infidelity, it all leads to a certain misalignment or estrangement with who I am. And as days go by in further ambiguity, I become so tired that I withdraw and sleep just to forget.
There are myriads of words to be written about waiting and patience and virtue and demands but I will not write them, nor will I live them.