Since when did we all got jobs and life partners? Why do I have a proper job now? What. Not saying that I was a more interesting person 3 years ago, but what I see in the mirror nowadays is a dull old man waiting for his turn to rot away in a meandering stream of water leading to a boring fountain somewhere. Clearly, something has to change. Is it my fault that I have such a dull job (where nothing I do makes a difference, or to give hope or keep faith or hope or something alive in/to somebody else, is that what I've been searching for all this time? I don't fucking know. Do I even want to give other people hope in living? Maybe to give somebody else a chance in living, a second chance in something. Not that I can relate to it or whatever)? Is there a point somewhere several years back, that divergent point, that I could've gone the other way? No point in wondering. Another crossroad is surely somewhere up on the road ahead.

Maybe. I don't know.

I thought I'm not opinionated anymore. Looks like I was wrong. This world silenced me to submission with pressure and monotony of living the nine to five.

I think this has something to do with me thinking that I was gonna always make it big one day. That mindset. I remember going to university with the mindset that I'm gonna make it big one day, that my future was so bright because I was going to the best university in this part of the world. Holy fucking shit, man. If only I knew how insignificant I was at that time. That illusion of grandeur. For five years.

What do I want? I'm not sure. In the past three years. I've always wanted to be an explorer. To discover something. Which I did. I sort of did. I got a 2-miles long, 50 metre wide strip of rock in the middle of the continent named after me. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I guess I just. I guess I just. I dream way too fucking much. I dodge radio waves.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Can I discover and foster the idea of love for life in others?

This morning my girlfriend told me that this is going to be a good year. To be honest, I have no idea how this year is going to turn out. I dismantle myself. If there is a year in a man's life that he can use to dissasemble himself and construct something else, entirely, based on what he learnt, would 24 be the year? Maybe before I turn a quarter century old, this is what I'm going to do.

And here we go.