Yeah, that’s me.

27 years …

Years. What a strange concept time is. If I was to indulge in a bit of mathematics, then that would mean, I have survived …

9,855 Days


236,520 Hours


14,191,200 Minutes.

Rookie numbers.

It’s strange though, because for once, I don’t feel like I have changed or regressed. Instead, I’m wondering about the futility of it all, pondering about the whole concept of birthdays and spending the earliest parts of the morning getting my thoughts down.

How little all of this actually means to anyone except myself. And even I don’t really give a shit about it.

The world doesn’t stop because I am celebrating my birthday, nor does it even knows I have one. Time is defined by man, so why did we choose 60 seconds to define a minute of our lives?

Why 60 seconds? What is a second?

All I know about time, is really how much pressure it places on everyone. On me. I can’t help but constantly remind myself about how time I’ve wasted. It’s the one crippling insecurity that constantly plagues my mind.

I like to think myself impervious to most types of self-doubt. I don’t have that much of an issue with my physical appearance, nor my ability to adapt, improvise and overcome challenges. I can be extroverted, introverted and everything in between.

Charming, debonair, average, handsome, ruthless, generous, petty or magnanimous … there is little beyond my reach when it comes to my abilities and charms.

But before the endless progress of time, I feel helpless, angry and keenly self-aware of my weaknesses and procrastination of the important things in my life.

I feel like I am wasting my only chance, my life. I get all too wrapped up on my mortality, and the desire to be named a legend in something.

It’s depressing and nihilistic.

The two adjectives I despise most the in world, because they just seem like an anathema to me, a terrible cycle that induces more time wasting.

In a lot of ways, my fear of time is a lot like if I had alcohol addiction …. I drink to forget I have an addiction, but it only fuels it more.

So, are there any plans to celebrate my birthday?

With the way how things are in the world, not really. It’ll probably just be another day that gets blurred with all others, like in quarantine, just with an added bonus of being more moody and reflective.

As I inch closer to 30 though, I feel like I got to work harder nowadays. I do have this fear of not working hard enough and not committing myself more to some type of success.

I guess this is why I am going to start another challenge for myself. I have to address this insecurity about time and learn to commit to a more regular schedule of work.

3 things to do a day.

Raise my productivity, force my creativity out and shed my laziness.

Physical, Mental or Spiritual …. I need to work on at least one of those 3 aspects in my life to improve things.

There is nothing quite like the feeling when you are aware of how talented, intelligent and overall capable you are, and yet cannot muster the energy nor the will to make use of it.

Physical training, Mental conditional and Spiritual awareness.

If I can at least start to address all of these things by doing 3 simple tasks a day, I think by the time I am 29, I might be able to reach some type of epiphany about my fear of time.

Whilst I get that today’s lifestyle and addictions are a result of rapid technological advancements that are supposed to make life easier, I have often found, in reality, it makes life a lot more hollow.

And the hollow feeling you get, is because you know you could be doing more, with more.

That sensation, is probably one of the most relatable feelings anyone today could have.

It’s OK to feel that.

I just wish it would go away.

That doesn’t excuse my laziness though.

So I got to change it.

3 things Damocles.

Just start with 3 things a day.

Maybe one day, your birthday won’t feel like another finish line where you were too slow.

~ Damocles

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