Romanticizing the Breakdown

Ah to be a writer.. Like a hardworking ant who has spent its whole life carrying bread crumbs — except the bread crumb is my talent for writing, and the ant is me. Step by step, day by day, I push forward, carrying that crumb through storms and sunshine alike. It’s not glamorous work, but it’s mine. Sometimes, I get lost on the path to becoming who I want to be. The trail gets muddled, the weight gets heavier, and I lose sight of where I’m going. But eventually, I find my way back on track. I always do. The drive to keep moving forward, to keep writing, never disappears — even when the path feels endless. I see details others overlook. While the other ants keep their heads down, focused only on the ground beneath their feet, I look up at the sky. I see the cracks in the pavement, the shape of the clouds, the shifting patterns of light and shadow. That makes me different — and sometimes, being different feels like not belonging. Most of the time, I feel out of place, like I’m walking a ...

At the office, as I sit at my desk, watching the others at their desks, busying themselves with all sorts of nonsense, here’s what I’m really thinking about: lighthouses. The sea and the lighthouses — those lonely little houses with their dim yet stubborn light piercing through the darkness, marking humanity’s need to communicate with one another.But think of how much those lighthouses endure. Storms, tempests, lightning, tornadoes… Just like some people. Haven't you met such resilient people? And one thing is certain — even they need solitude. You’ll find them where you find the lighthouses, at the edge of the loneliest shore, insisting on shining their light and offering hope to those sailing through the dark.Time doesn’t flow if you’re a realist in this world. I hear people say, "I’m a realist," but what others glance at and overlook is glaringly obvious to me — I see it clearly. I struggle not to shout at those people: "HOW MUCH DARKNESS ARE YOU CARRYING?" J...