Two weeks passed without me really struggling for anything or anyone. Last week was national holiday. People went out traveling, me staying at that coffee shop every afternoon reading my books.

Finished The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo, excepting from bursting into laughter here and there due to the sarcasm in the writer’s voice. The deepest feeling for me was that people all tend to fall in love with the wrong persons, and I guess that is the stupidity in human nature. People fall in love with those who are poisonous to them, but they do it anyway. Though we may survive in real life, all the characters in books died of love. 

Life has been peaceful and quiet. There are some nights I wanted to pack and floating somewhere else. But I dare myself to enjoy the daily life as it is here at my place. My career drags like an 80-year-old man, and I don’t feel like pushing too hard on it. All in all, I don’t quite like what I’m doing for a living right now. Every time I try to introduce myself, I hope I can say, “I am a writer,” but I am still struggling to get a book written to read yet.

There are moments from time to time, tempting me to find a new place to write in peace. But I’ve done that before, and I didn’t write anything. I don’t think the problem goes with where I am, but how much I want it. Maybe I am not ready yet. I hope “here” can be the place I can be productive; anywhere I am could be the place I feel like home.

The problem is I don’t know what to write about. My swift love died too soon, and I can easily feel unloved. Recently, I can sense that I felt too disappointed in any man in my life. I don’t want any of them, so I want to run away and just be with myself. I don’t know. I have faith in my love, but all those girls happy in love looks zero similarity to me. I’m unique and weird in the same way. Giving up on love may be the only way to be peaceful in the end. I’m not a warrior; I’m a quieter. But I love myself enough to not struggle too much with what others may think of me.

Running into the fourth week of my marathon training. I don’t know how but accidentally hurt my back. I didn’t sleep well for the past few days, but I want more sleep. I can feel it in my sleepy eyes. 

The only thing I won’t let go is me. So I’ll be good.