Journey of Curiosity
From my window, I watched a couple fall in love again and then fall apart, again. This is a reflection on addiction, on the quiet way it undoes people, and how we, as outsiders, try to make sense of something we’ll never fully understand. It’s not just about them. It’s also about me, and maybe, in some way, about all of us.
Five years changed everything—friendships, family, work, identity. This isn’t a polished list of life lessons, it’s just me trying to make sense of the quiet chaos. From feeling alone in crowded rooms to questioning what’s real within myself, this is a personal reflection on the parts of life that don’t always get spoken out loud. Not answers—just honest fragments I’m still piecing together.
High-functioning autism is a paradox—struggling with emotions, social cues, and sensory overload while being “smart enough” to mask it. Many never realize they need help, believing their struggles are personal failures. Years pass in silent exhaustion, misread and misunderstood. But the truth is, they were never broken—just navigating a world that never showed them who they truly are. Understanding that is the first step to truly existing.
Love feels like this deep, mysterious thing, but your brain is actually running a complex process behind the scenes. From past memories to subconscious preferences, it’s constantly figuring out what (and who) you’re drawn to. Relationships aren’t just about compatibility, they’re about two minds learning each other over time. And honestly, that makes love even more fascinating.
I once cared for a garden that bloomed with vibrant life. Now it lies barren, a quiet reminder of loss. Yet every sunrise brings hope, whispering that even in emptiness, new beginnings can take root. I tend my garden daily, trusting in the gentle power of renewal, one simple day at a time.
I used to get frustrated by the world’s chaos—people making the same mistakes, society’s expectations, and the noise that felt impossible to escape. But I’ve realized the noise isn’t something to block or fight. It’s part of life. This is my reflection on embracing the absurdity around me, accepting what I can’t control, and finding authenticity in the middle of it all.