I used to greet my reflection like it was a stranger.

I didn’t recognise the face that stared back at me as my own.

However, ever since I started the Before 30 (B30) Challenge, I’ve slowly become accustomed to my own visage. As strange as this sounds, but before I started the B30, I never liked looking at my own reflection.

I couldn’t come to grips with the idea, that, that was who I looked like. In my mind, I didn’t really have a strong idea of what I looked like, and that somehow the mirror was showing me a mirage. I could hear my own words, feel my own feelings … but you can’t see your own face unless it is reflected.

To verge on the philosophical … I didn’t trust the mirrors, the image I saw of myself. They were reflections, not true visualisation of who I am. A very strange insecurity to have.

I am a very … accommodating person when it comes to beauty. If I hang around you long enough, there is a chance I will eventually come to the breakthrough that there is something inherently attractive about you. It’s not difficult for me to identify why they could end up with a partner. Yet for all my generosity, I could never truly pinpoint what made me attractive.

Even when I struggled to find an answer, I kept reverting back to my force of personality. I assumed most of my charm laid in my sense of humour, my confidence and my inherent charisma. I never once considered that my facial features was capable of attracting anyone.

I’ll be honest … deep down, a part of me, despite getting more and more comfortable with my facial features, still think I blend in as a very average looking Asian male.

This is a reflection about change though. Much has changed since the lockdown ended in my beautiful hometown of Melbourne. I’ve become obsessed with tennis, a full time manager of a retail store, am currently undertaking a part-time course in event management to up-skill my considerable experience and am engaging in weekly badminton sessions with my friends.

Throw in a strange desire to be more extroverted than ever before, and I wonder what happened to the Damocles of 2 years prior, the man who would be too tired to go to anything after a casual, dull 5 hours of work and preferred to spend his time in a digital city known as Los Santos.

That Damocles before COVID-19 is now long gone. The hermit has finally shed his shell and is now more eager than ever to embrace life after having an entire year stolen from him, without his permission.

In a lot of ways, I hit the ground running the moment COVID-19 lockdowns were over. I was actually furious. An entire year stolen away from me, an imposition of further retail work, when 2020 was meant to be the year I quit the damn company and be my own boss.

I think a lot of the changes that have occurred, from my rather drastic weight loss, to my inherently poor decision to adopt one of the most frustrating sports in the world (tennis) … have all stemmed from a critically furious part of me inside, that is resentful, bitter and arrogantly spiteful that the world has somehow dared to interfere with my life plans.

So, in reality, this is me accelerating everything I have ever wanted to improve upon. I rarely feel tired nowadays, so invigorated by this angry side of me, that I am pushing myself for rapid growth.

I am greedy for life.

I want to lose more weight and achieve some type of peak fitness that enables me to chase down cars travelling at 40km/h or lift a girl up easily over my shoulders.

I want to play tennis competitively and win some type of trophy.

I want to resurrect my business, Tofu Events and become my own employer and man, responsible for my own livelihood.

I want my own apartment and so have been psychologically been planning out my days, so that I can realise what it is like to live on your own.

I want to attend more events and spend less time at home.

I want to be a better conversationalist.

I want to do a side flip, a front flip and eventually a parkour Kong Vault.

I even want to get better at singing and dancing.

The kicker is … I want ALL of these things to happen before I am 30.

That gives me 2 years to achieve everything.

Not impossible. Especially if I keep on working hard and making sure I am kept as busy as possible.

I realise now that the reason why I was more introverted, was because I wasn’t really taking control of my life. I treated friends sparsely, when really, to celebrate their company, I should be spending more time with them, making them laugh, think, and smile.

I’ve also realised just how much confidence I’ve gathered by being more fit. Perhaps too much, because I need to be careful that I don’t become some narcissistic asshole, which is all too easy for someone as arrogant and asshole-y like me.

I keep catching myself looking in the mirror more, when I really should stop. The obsession with looking good is such good bait. It keeps you going, pushing harder in your exercises, but I’ll also freely admit, that I need to be aware of how dangerous that is, especially if I keep going to the point of injury.

There is no point in injuring yourself, because you’ve just denied yourself another rep.

It is an incredibly weird sensation though … to look at yourself in the mirror and go … “Hey, that’s not bad.” As a guy who has never step foot in a gym before nor lifted a single weight, I was always averse to gym culture.

But I think I have a good understanding now and why it is addicting. It is visible improvement you can see, and something like that is its’ own motivation.

That being said though, I’m still not going to step foot in a gym. I prefer to run outside and get engaged in more sports. I will also admit, that I have an obssession with speed and have been really trying to improve how fast I can accelerate, thus my use of a plate carrier to load up more weight, thus when I take it off … I should really be flying.

Which has definitely been proven correct, because I think I am now faster than ever before. The world seems to stand still when I accelerate to my top speed.

Throughout my journey so far, I must be thankful to 2 fictional characters: Rocky Balboa and Steve Rogers. They are the two men that have steered and pushed me to even further efforts while retaining my own identity and forging my own path, regardless of the obstacles in the way.

Through Rocky, I learned to never give up and acknowledge that the grind is always worth something.

Through Steve, I learned to push my limits even further than I thought was possible, to try and get some kind of feeling in being superhuman.

I’m always reminded though, of how much of a good person I should be, whenever I channel Steve Rogers. I’m still shaking my head at the moral compass, the character of Captain America always seems to instill in me at random times.

Such as when I was running, completely out of breath, struggling to breathe under the weight of the plate carrier after a 200 metre sprint, and yet I still had to stoop down to pick up rubbish. It was just a random thing I felt like I had to do. I will also admit to being a bit protective of the gardens that I do laps around now, because it is such a lovely park, to see it polluted just seem wrong, especially when there are ample bins everywhere.

The power of superheroes … making you conscientious even when you shouldn’t be.

But it was Rocky that really began the journey to losing weight and getting fit. His music and story never fails to get me amped and I can directly correlate my ability to push harder to his character. I never thought I would relate to a guy like Rocky, but his story is universal.

I even attribute my dieting to him as well. I knew from the get-go, that losing weight wasn’t about working or running hard. It was about learning to control my eating habits that had balloon up at crazy times.

So …. that means no eating until 2pm every day, and making sure it is light, so that my body can learn to convert that into energy, instead of storing somewhere. The same goes for dinner at a relatively late time at 7.30pm.

2 meals a day, plenty of water and exercise. This is the way forward for me and … it’s not that easy, when I know there is so much good food out there. Culling my snacking was the worst transition.

Staying lean and mean ….

What has been the best thing about this whole journey so far, is that I can tell that I am making improvement in my own life. I can actually see changes happening and that if I keep working this hard, something will swing my way soon.

I’m going to sound cliched, but at the moment … life is looking good. But that doesn’t mean I can get complacent. After all, moods can swing rapidly and one lousy day can set back months of progress.

Life isn’t easy with discipline but it is a lot more rewarding.

P.S. A small insight into this reflection piece … if the image above of the house by the lake sticks with you, then you are looking in my mind palace. This is what I always project when writing these pieces.

Imagine a guy in a totally dark room, with only the moon reflecting off the lake for light, and he is writing slowly but surely in a book. He is dressed casually, but with a white-grey wolf fur kaross adorned across his shoulders for warmth. Soft jazz is scratchily played from a record player and the sound of water lapping the ground underneath the veranda adds another melodic atmosphere to the room.

As dramatic as this is, that is what makes me write so well in any circumstances, imagining myself all alone in a glass house, focusing only on the scratching of my pen on paper.

~Damocles

Yesterday, straight after work, I ended up being a volunteer at a festival. Something I haven’t done in over a year now.

I have forgotten how thankless, tiring and draining event work is. No one really appreciates the effort that goes into making an event come to life. But that is the song of chaos and control you must dance to as the event organiser.

It was also a blast to be back.

All the usual hectic activity was happening. When an event is underway and the initial set up is complete, it is a breeze. All you need to do is ensure the program runs smoothly and every single person is aware of their duties. The event essentially runs itself. There is no need to be running around.

Instead you rest, relax a bit and soak in the atmosphere you’ve created over many painstaking months. You chat to patrons, volunteers and rub shoulders with the band.

My volunteer shift started with the shitty job. The part of the festival that is never fun and involves a lot of frustrated and tired people: bumping out.

I knew exactly why my tutor (the general manager for the Brewer’s Festival) put me on for the bump out. He was aware of my experience in the past in dealing with festivals and in particular, angry stall holders.

So he made me the gatekeeper. The first man to be yelled at and assaulted by sponsors, food vendors and tired festival workers.

I had honestly forgotten how you can get the biggest spectrum of reactions from people. You can always tell who did the worst at the event and the ones who were successful. You can also always tell those who just want to get the hell out of there, safety and people be damned and others who are understanding and know the realistic situation everyone is in.

Those who pull rank on me, I despise. “I talked to Trevor! (not my tutor’s real name) He SAID that I can come in and do this, in front of these people here. I don’t care what others are loading, they’re not loading a 1.6 ton cart onto a trailer with 6 people. Why can’t you just let me in?” whined the ice-cream man who clearly made something of a loss.

Then I’ll get other responses like “Hey mate, all good man. I get it. I don’t mind waiting. You got a pretty good job though hey?” the relaxed cider guy would say with a sarcastic smirk.

Finally, the last typical response would be “Ahhh shit. Not much you can do right? Alright mate. Keep me posted” the tired whiskey man would say with a deep sigh.

Customer service skills, are something I still need to work on. It’s not easy, stroking the egos of so many different types of people and making them all happy. But then I will confess that I have always struggled when I am a “volunteer”, unsure of how much authority I am allowed to stamp out. As the boss of my own festival, I know that I am a firmer character and stick less to the rules. I am more flexible, relaxed, preferring the “rule of the jungle” than trying to impose any sensibility into a chaotic time, like bumping out.

“First come, first served” is more my style, as it takes the blame out of the organisers and there is more competition between the stall holders to see who can get to their stall first. I can direct traffic better this way, than being more rigid and sticking to a time slot.

But that is not the rules of engagement I was handed with and so I had to be a dutiful soldier and follow orders. I still ended up being a bit flexible in who I let in, but it was within reason and I think the bump out process went as smoothly as it could have.

I struck multiple deals though. Promising to help this stall out, by carrying half their load up a small hill. Reassuring another lady that she would get through soon, after this guy sorted his stuff out.

I only ended up fulfilling half of them. But that is the nature of the chaos that always descend during bump out.

I must say, overall, it was fun to be working amongst hard-toiling volunteers. There is a camaraderie that is struck up so quickly and naturally, and despite being amongst complete strangers, it was fun to share a bit of banter and work.

I stuck to my usual default “silent & strong” mode, chiming in only with a quip or offer for help, the words of eternal wisdom: “better to be silent and be thought of as a fool, than to open your mouth and prove them correct” echoing strongly in my mind as I kept working.

I was also curious to find out that I was still the best equipped volunteer there, my faithful companion of many years, the Pelican flashlight proving to be an invaluable asset as night fell over the venue, as well as the Mechanix Cut gloves I always pack in my EDC (Every Day Carry) bag. I would be remiss to not mention my other faithful friend, the Leatherman Skeletool multitool that honestly …. I have lost count the number of times I have used it at events and aorund in life.

I guess my atypical mentality of being “over-prepared” for everything does pay dividends in the long run.

Another strange piece of reflection I had during the bump out, was seeing my trusty combat boots finally get dirty. I had worn these for so long, just as casual piece of footwear, only to now truly see them in their element, keeping my feet comfortable, moving and stable over gravel, wet grass, patches of mud and endless ice from endless beer … it made me grateful I am always seeking the best the military has to offer and buying them for my own use.

It made me happy to see my investments enabling me to work harder and longer without discomfort. I enjoy bringing tools, gear and kit to environments and really testing them and seeing how I can work more efficiently with them.

A point of pride for me, was the fact that my stamina and strength had increased since the last time I was at an event. I covered a surprising 12.5km yesterday, just from walking around at work and at the festival and I felt physically OK at the end of it all. The B30 Challenge and my fixation with tennis paying off.

Overall, the Brewer’s Feast was a good event to attend, even if I was only there briefly. I was astonished at how long people spent there and how everything had a very cosy atmosphere. Despite the amount of alcohol that was flowing, there were very little need for security to step in, and there truly was a family friendly vibe about the entire event. I couldn’t believe how many vendors attended and took the opportunity to showcase their unique alcoholic blends. I liked the layout, the staff, and the vibe.

It wasn’t hard to see why this event had been running for 5 years and still saw massive attendance, even in the twilight hours of a Sunday.

It was just … nice to be at an event again, running around, being busy, physically and mentally and using all my tools again.

The Brewer’s Feast was a reminder that this is truly the industry I want to work in and that while I nearly missed the start of the MotoGP & F1 because I had rush home, and that my dinner consisted of slightly stale McDonalds nuggets … I wouldn’t trade attending a good festival for all the hardships in the world.

The best thing too, was that the night was topped off with an awesome race in Imola by the F1 fraternity.

~ Damocles.

The older I get, the more politics seem to grate on me, and I feel myself longing for some type of controlled anarchy.

Before I come across as some type of chaos agent from Get Smart, what I specifically mean by that is a community that understands and values the core principles of individual responsibility.

Fundamental to that ideal, is the idea that you alone are responsible for what happens to you.

It places a greater pressure on yourself to be the very best version of you. It also implicitly blames you for your own choices, poor decisions and failures. There is no pinning the blame on others, on the world or some perceived slight against yourself.

You go through life, keenly aware that everything you do, you did for a reason.

You also fight complacency at almost every step, because you realise that you can’t really afford to make bad decisions without facing some type of consequence.

It breeds mindful people. People who understand that nothing they do can really be taken for granted, that the casual toss of rubbish here affects others, that your decision to snack on junk food today, will mean more tooth decay and adverse health benefits tomorrow.

A society where people are more aware of their own impact on themselves and others can only generate more positive outcomes to the broader community.

This doesn’t eliminate assholes of course, but then nothing ever will. There will always be people whose predilections and outlooks on life offend you. But they can be assholes with a purpose. They understand why they are behaving the way they are, and will actually have a reason why they do the things they do.

In other words, a person with legitimate reason for believing the things they do and can actually back themselves up, regardless of what atrocious or reasonable beliefs they may have.

So why did I use the words “controlled anarchy?”

Well beyond the shock value, and odd juxtaposition of definitions in those two words, I find that the two find a strange middle ground in terms of governance, with perhaps a slight lean towards anarchy.

I like the appeal behind anarchy, because it is all about self-reliance, and it strips away any pretension we might have about each other. It is raw, animalistic and probably the worst and most stressful way to live, because honestly, you’re not living …. you’re just surviving.

Which brings me to a crucial next point. Individual responsibility isn’t just about empowering your beliefs and values. It also helps highlight deficits you think you might have in life, especially with regards to personal health and skills.

Survival skills have been lacking in a lot of people recently. We are now less observant, less healthy, and less prepared than ever before. You can argue that in an urban environment you no longer need to navigate by the stars, or be able to pluck a chicken.

The counter-argument to that is of course, you still do need survival skills. Cars, bikes, construction work, there is still a prevalent need to develop awareness to avoid nasty accidents and injury.

But the most important issue that is being missed, is that old-fashioned wilderness skills are key to appreciating nature itself.

A greater appreciation of earth is never a bad thing, especially with how people treat their rubbish, food waste and daily consumption of goods. Survival skills help you understand and empathise with the living world around us, to help humble your ego and instill in you, a sense of mortality.

Mortality … a word that barely registers in our consciousness nowadays, but really should. We all think we are going to live forever with the advances of science and medicine, but I think the COVID-19 crisis has finally warned us, that we are very, very susceptible to death.

However, instead of reacting in a knee-jerk way, and celebrating the end of COVID-19, should there not be a greater and deeper reflection on the way how we live our lives? Should we not embrace the greater responsibility to self and work to improve and embrace more of the time we have left?

Where is the gratitude for surviving a plague?

Where is the drive to get healthier, to spend less, to see the positives effects of slowing down humanity’s progress to allow the Earth to catch up?

Instead we just chose to resume everything as normal again and ignore any net positives COVID might have taught us.

Individual responsibility is all about realising that change starts with yourself first. Take courage from that fact, because there is nothing more empowering than knowing that the sky is the limit when it comes to change within.

The world won’t move for you, nor will it acknowledge you, but you have all the power within to enact any change you want.

Want to get fit? Start exercising and trimming down your diet.

Want to get fight-ready? Start training with the money you earn, and sign yourself up for a fight in the ring.

Want to be more attractive? Look after your skin, build up confidence in the strengths you have and take nothing personally. Rejection is not a sign of unattractiveness, it’s a signal for you to search elsewhere.

Want to get better at something? Put in the hours. 24 hours in a day, in which you only lose 6-7 hours to sleep, and 8 hours to work still means you got 9 hours to put in the hard yards to learn, improve and inspire.

This is what individual responsibility is all about. It forces you to take a long hard look at yourself and find the strength within to do everything you ever wanted to do. It inspires you to reach higher heights because you alone know how much you are capable of.

Don’t blame the world, blame yourself first. Only you can change yourself, the world doesn’t give 2 shits about you.

Look after yourself, and stay hungry for more and suddenly it will seem like the sun is shining down especially bright for you, whereas for everyone else, the sky is cloudy.

In a world full of people willing to embrace themselves, improve themselves and better themselves, there is no real ceiling that can stop it. You will see unity amongst people, because they realise that they can’t change others, only themselves and that is OK. You learn to accept others, because they don’t really do you any harm.

The world is less offended, more introspective and accepting. You don’t feel the need to preach to others, to get angry at something beyond your control because you look inwards first and then realise it’s OK if something is beyond reproach.

I think in a lot of ways, the society that truly espouses what I am discussing right now, is early America in the wake of the American Revolution. There was an incredible ideology back then that really embraced what I am discussing, the freedoms in which the American people enjoyed were only made possible because people trusted one another to be responsible for themselves.

In particular if you observe the first 2 amendments of the American Constitution;

The 1st Amendment: Protects the freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of assembly and the right to petition the government.

The 2nd Amendment: Protects the right to keep and bear arms.

Cast your mind back to that period of history, where governments and kingdoms ruled with an iron fist and enjoyed suppressing people as much as the next local dictator next door … the very first two amendments granted the people the extraordinary ability to police their own government and prevent any supreme leader from appearing.

The Constitution allows people to protest, bear arms against the government if suspected of tyranny and express themselves however damn well they wanted.

All the things modern governments still very much fear and do their best to control.

If the very first two Amendments are not a glowing recommendation for individual responsibility than observe the 9th and 10th Amendment which explicitly states

The 9th Amendment: states that rights not enumerated in the Constitution are retained by the people.

The 10th Amendment: states that the federal government possesses only those powers delegated or enumerated to it through the Constitution.

Both Amendments further restricts the power of the government and places a greater emphasis on people governing themselves.

Much like controlled anarchy.

However, such idealism would inevitably be lost to today’s world, especially with the prevalence of even more censorship, propaganda and downright lies spread by everyone.

The irony of too much freedom, is that people start to wish for more control.

With more control, only comes more laziness, more complacency and a desire to blame the other instead of yourself.

Reject the controlling nature of the world. Confuse the algorithms, or reject them entirely. Be informed, be smart, be in self-control of what you consume, read and think.

By embracing yourself, by taking on more responsibility for yourself, you create your own world, instead of falling into the prison that others have designed for you.

Dare to know, dare to challenge yourself and dare to win.

vivamus, moriendum est.

let us live, since we must die.

~ Damocles.

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

or

236,520 Hours

or

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

To set the scene … I’m sitting, in a largely silent house, listening to Japanese Jazz, and playing with a folder knife.

Soft amber light is casting my room in a comfortable glow, my legs are sprawled comfortably across my chair and bed and I wish I was smoking a cigarette, despite never having had any tobacco before.

I’m lounging like this, when it struck me that I still got two more weeks of this isolation lockdown, this lovely house arrest after our illustrious Melbourne Premier, announced his “roadmap” out COVID-19 last Sunday on the auspicious day of the 6th of September.

The moment that thought struck me, I felt this strange sense of calm resigned depression overcome my thoughts. Several nihilistic actions happened soon after.

I felt bizarrely like dropping my knife into my thigh. Then I wanted to throw it into the wall. Finally, my fingers moved and just gave the knife a couple of twirls, before placing it down gently.

That’s enough of that silliness said my mind to my mind. I agree said my voice to myself.

Nostalgia soon arrived after, like the scent of spring after a long winter, and reminded me what I missed.

The city of Melbourne.

I’ve always beheld her as some dangerously seductive femme fatale in my mind.

Clad in a appropriately black cocktail dress, Melbourne had enchanting emerald eyes like the numerous parks, long wavy raven hair that sparkled like the Yarra at night and lightly sun-kissed skin, akin to her best side at sunsets.

Her voice would be husky, Lauren Bacall-esque in delivery and cadence. She would be moody, like the weather, able to dazzle with daylight and disparage with hail in a heartbeat.

(Just imagine a Elizabeth Debicki type with dark hair and you’re getting a close approximation of how I imagine Melbourne. Elegant, refined beauty that somehow floors you with mysterious wise eyes. Did you know she is a Melburnian? How quaint that such an extremely tall, statuesque silver screen goddess would come from this neck of the woods. But I always long held the belief that the women in Melbourne were beautiful, like the city itself.)

But Melbourne would always be welcoming, enticing you to explore more of her fun, secretive personality, to discover what hidden treasures she had tucked away for the curious.

I miss spending nights with her.

Finding bars in the unlikeliest places. Scouting rooftops that could take your breath away with the climb, the guards and the view. Appreciating quiet venues with comfortable sofas, a fireplace and transit ambience.

I would always visit her at least once a month. I love my home-town too much, to neglect Melbourne like that. There is always something on offer, always some covert restaurant that promised more delicious food, or some tucked-away club that catered to Cuban cigar aficionados.

You can see the highest of highs in Melbourne, and experience the lowest of lows all in the same night.

I think that is what I am finding difficult to grapple with the most. The slow, inexorable death of personality within, that only happens when days merge into each other, when weeks become confused and foggy, the future offering no light at the end of your tunnel.

I know, I know. This is all very dramatic.

I blame the Japanese Jazz, I’m listening to.

Before I was compelled to write this … whatever this is …. I was playing what I call “lethargic” music, the type of slightly edgy, dark, sensual and atmospheric sounds that lulls you into thinking all type of wrong things. Check out The Pink Room by Angelo Badalamenti or Out of Time by Brian Reitzell if this kind of thing appeals to you.

It only ever does, when I feel like fully embracing nihilism, a very unhealthy thing to do in these times, because feeling like there is no purpose, will only make you more aware of how time has dulled in this lockdown.

Feeling mopey, I then channelled French jazz, the type of songs that make you long for the touch of a woman, a stiff drink, a cigarette and a comfortable bed to partake in all of those things. Dance Me to the End of Love by Madeleine Peyroux is arguably the love song of my entire romantic lifespan. I always indulge in this song, when I crave a girl to convince me everything is going to be OK, with her touch, her voice and her gentle ministrations.

Royal Blue by Henry Macini is the second most romantic song I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Whenever I indulge in fond romantic memories, this always plays softly in the background. The melody always rekindles this feeling of simpler, more maudlin and glamorous times, when life wasn’t quite the shitstorm of stress it is now.

I couldn’t quite stand how emotional I was getting, and the knife twirls were only getting more furious.

So I moved onto Japanese Jazz, in particular the work of Yuji Ohno of Lupin the Third fame.

Quite possibly what I consider the jazz national anthem of Japan, Lupin the Third‘s theme, is iconic in the extreme, but it is the song Mayflower that I really adore.

Calming, slow, with a really beautiful piano melody, Mayflower never fails to relaxes me and let me soak in some kind of strange tranquil ambience.

But by then, I was feeling myself slip into too much of a relaxed state. So I switched it up to the excellent album Cafe Relaxin’ Lupin and ended up really wishing I could be sipping a hot chocolate in a rain soaked alleyway of Melbourne, watching people and cars go by.

It’s strange, because now as I reflect upon these past months of COVID-19, I realised I’ve truly run a gambit and exhausted all options. I’ve spent recklessly, gamed frantically, read furiously, written copiously, exercised manically and watched entertainment habitually … but now all I have left are my thoughts.

I’ve outlasted myself. Robbed myself of anything left to do.

Purpose is bereft at the moment. All the lights I’ve tried to maintain are being extinguished in favour of wallowing in the dark of nihilistic sadness.

Thanks COVID-19. Truly appreciate this exploration of the depth of despair.

Hmph.

At least I still got my sarcastic, bitter sense of humour. That’s the one thing nothing will ever rob from me.

I’m not really sure what was the point of writing all of this down was. But it did serve a purpose. It allowed me to vent, to acknowledge the state I am in and feel like I am actually in touch with how I truly feel.

Sometimes, when I write, I just want to write, without rhyme, rhythm or reason.

This is one of those posts.

Utterly rubbish drivel, composed in absurd alliteration, and half-baked similes.

But, this is really how I feel. I’m just getting in touch with myself, through me.

That’s important, when there is so much craziness out there.

Sometimes when we are alone, we have to be our own company.

That isn’t crazy. It’s just logical.

COVID-19 really does strip everyone down to their bare basics.

I feel a bit like Pandora’s Box, my many emotions released into the world like the evils in trapped within.

All that is left is my scornful humour. My “hope” is my cynical amusement.

When Damocles is truly crushed, and fermented and turned into wine …

Acerbic wit, is my distilled essence.

That’s not so bad is it?

No, I suppose it isn’t.

Thanks COVID-19. I hate it.

~ Damocles.

This is the finale to the COVID-19 Series.

Overall, I rather enjoyed writing broadly and personally about COVID-19. I’ve really allowed myself to vent out my frustration, and also see things in a more positive light than what the news has been assaulting me with for the past 6 months.

“The Great Reset” as I’ve come to coined the pandemic, has really shown the disparity in wealth and culture that globalism and capitalism has wreaked upon the world.

When you are sick, but need to go to work to earn enough upkeep to sustain your life, shit is beyond fucked.

Truly my heart goes out to all small business owners who have been destroyed by this pandemic and I can only imagine the stress and pain they are going through right now.

I’ve been fortunate to keep my retail job, this back-up plan of mine that I was going to abandon by mid 2020, literally saving me from the devastation COVID-19 has wrecked upon people’s livelihoods.

But now, with a Stage 4 lockdown coming in, I am on the same playing field, as everyone else. My store will be closed by tomorrow and I shall be out of work for the next 6 weeks.

It’ll probably feel like a very long month and a half if I am honest. I shall be putting most of my effort into getting “racer-ready” and cutting down my lap times in Gran Turismo Sport.

I’ll also have to continue my dry-firing drills, improving my Spanish and ensuring I actually come to an conclusion with regards to Sol, the sci-fi story I am creating right now.

Now that I’m looking on the mountain of work ahead of me, I’m a bit more optimistic about the stuff I have to do on this break.

With any luck, this toughest lockdown will bring the pandemic under control and some semblance of normality will return to my beloved hometown.

The cynic in me though, is skeptical. The mood here is the most down-trodden I’ve ever seen and often when the collective mood is depressive, things tend to get more self-destructive than better.

Our Premier is losing his command and respect, the people are more openly flaunting the rules, and there is a nihilistic outlook on life.

An attitude that says “if we get it, fine, so be it. I can’t be bothered fighting anymore.” This is naturally extremely dangerous and represents a collective defeatist attitude in the town, something that will only prolong the lockdown.

But, I can’t blame people for feeling that way. There is no crueller and tougher way to bounce back, after a victory felt earned, won and sealed, only for it to be taken away.

We walked away, thinking COVID-19 was defeated, that we, as a team, did our duty and job to the best of our ability. That our sacrifices meant a victory in the long run.

To have COVID-19 come back, rendering all those sacrifices for nothing, and with our bullshit tank empty, we have nothing to cling onto anymore. Hope is lost and once people lose hope, it is very difficult to behave rationally.

That is the mood of Melbourne right now, on the cusp of the toughest and strictest lockdown ever felt.

It’s as dire as it sounds.

This series has left me exhausted and replete with the amount of words and emotions I’ve dedicated to this topic.

I doubt I have much else to say on COVID-19. I’ve truly explored all the topics I want to discuss and can leave in peace.

I now have a lot of work to do and other avenues to explore.

I hope you have all enjoyed reading my opinions as much as I felt relief in writing them down.

Until the next post,

~ Damocles. 

This journal, has been expanding exponentially since I’ve decided to dust it off when I started my Before 30 Challenge. 

But it was COVID-19 that really allowed me to take this journal to another level and express myself even more.

I felt like talking more, mostly because I was being driven to the depths of boredom at work.

COVID-19 has really also made me wish I had an editor on board, because the keyboard at work is atrocious, and its “stickiness” causes a lot of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.

I don’t think I’ve read a single post, whereupon publishing, I would reread it and be compelled to go back and edit out the mistakes.

This keyboard, I am writing on, truly sucks for speed too, as my thoughts often run faster than I can type. I do miss my home keyboard, because it allows my hands to keep pace with myself.

There’s also the frequent interruption to my chains of thoughts, as I have to duck out for a few seconds to serve customers or help them, before returning and struggle to recollect my chain of logic.

It’s a strange mental exercise, but one that I am slowly getting better at. I think it’s an important skill, to hold something in your mind, address something else, and then return to it.

Memory skills are something I really need to train and develop. It never ceases to amaze me, how much I forget in a day, the important details I’ve missed and the crucial conversations I lose track of.

Memories, I feel, are crucial to your overall mental well-being, because beyond its obvious indication that you don’t have dementia, it also serves an important function in reminding you of lessons you need to take heed of.

To err is to be human, to make the same error twice, is stupid.

In context of this journal, COVID-19 has also granted me a boom, in followers. I’ve been really surprised to see the number of people follow and read this blog, and show their support, even in the smallest way with a “like.” I have done absolutely nothing to promote this blog, no tags, no SEO-linkage, nothing at all.

So to have anyone genuinely read my posts, despite the huge amount content out there, still floors me. The fact that I have an audience, no matter how big or small it is, means that I feel encouraged to keep writing and producing stories.

Honestly, I get such a swell of emotion whenever I get that WordPress email telling me that someone reacted positively to my posts. It reaffirms my belief that I am not the most horrific writer out there, that people can actually enjoy reading something I’ve made.

This has been a surprising experience for me as well, because usually I am quite a private person, unwilling to share my thoughts, even amongst my friends. I made the decision to go public with this Journal, because I felt the need to be held accountable for my progress in the B30 Challenge.

“Public shaming” if you will.

I couldn’t live with myself, if I failed in front of people, so that’s why this Journal exists. To keep pushing me to create, be productive and keep practising what I preach.

It’s easy to convince yourself to accept failure when you are alone.

It’s a lot harder to convince yourself that you are doing things right, when you fail in front of people and peers.

I’m really glad I took up writing again, just before COVID-19 started, because it provides me with a reference to my state of mind before the pandemic. As I mentioned earlier, it’s amazing how much the human mind forgets and often, we need a record of ourselves to help enable more personal growth and introspection.

When we look back at ourselves, we should have two feelings: embarrassment and pride. Embarrassed that we were so uncivilised back then and proud that we have grown up and moved past that state.

Seeing progress in ourselves, is what makes us confident and better people.

This Journal has helped me see that I’m getting better, in some ways and worse in others. It lets me identify key problems within, and create solutions to address those issues.

It also serves as a pep talk to myself. I think, everyone reading this Journal can see that, whilst I am extraordinarily harsh on myself, I am also quite encouraging. I know that I’ve made mistakes, that I’ve slipped, but that isn’t a call for defeat, because I can just get back up, take notes on why I made a mistake, and not repeat it.

I suppose you could say, I do reassure myself a lot. Probably my subconscious working to protect my fragile ego.

But if it works, it works, and I’m not one to break from an established procedure that has proven itself.

In a way, COVID-19 has proven itself to be a bit of blessing when it comes to personal development. Whilst the world has gone to shit, I’ve felt more attuned to myself and my needs and my priorities. I’ve focused on making myself resilient and tough in the face of adversity.

And all the pandemics in the world, can’t really take that away from me.

It might seem like a waste of time, a frivolous expenditure of your life, but can it truly be all that bad, when you’ve improved yourself?

COVID-19 might have paused the world, but it can’t pause you.

Work hard, train hard and be hard.

~ Damocles.

Team Farang, my parkour idols ever since I got interested in the discipline. 

This is a bit random, but I felt like discussing my own style and what I particularly like in clothing. 

Ever since I was in high school, and discovered for the very first time what a hoodie was, I have been interested in clothing ever since.

It’s not as strong as my love for tactical gear (I still need to get myself a plate carrier) but there is definitely a keen interest in how to clothe myself. One of the very first blogs I followed on WordPress, and have been an avid reader ever since, was BAMF Style, whose erudite and excellent analysis of so many important pop culture and obscure outfits, have enthralled me and informed my own choices.

I mostly buy a lot of muted, earthy colours. Being a Melburnian, this obviously means a lot of … blue. I’m kidding of course, in reality, the natural colour of this city is black.

But I honestly don’t own that many black items.

My approach to colour tends to be very dark navy blues, with lighter colours like brown and greys to balance out the whole look. Overall, I would have to say my style is quite muted, more akin to blending in with the crowd, than trying hard to stand out and be a personality.

It also tends to be quite functional, with many of my purchases based around my EDC policy, and thus I need a lot of strong belts, pockets and looser cuts to hide my various gadgets.

There are so many looks I would love to explore. A great example I adore is the 80s Miami Vice aesthetics of pastel pinks, blues and aqua, but with my physique and “mentality” when it comes to clothes, I cannot pull off such a look.

Another admirable trend I love, are the colours that often people of African descent can pull off. I love the bright purples, yellows and oranges that they pull off with such ease and aplomb, but, my skin tone and physique again, lacks the ability to handle such brightness.

So, how do I dress myself?

Predominantly in 3 styles.

Street. Paramilitary. Suave.

Each of these style represent a rather unique period of my life and dovetails nicely with the obsessions I had at the time. However, the current theme I noticed in all of them, are practical elements that always pay service to the gadgets I have on board.

These gadgets, have grown over the years, but currently they stand at this list:

• Suunto All Core Watch
• Milspec550 Paracord Trooper Bracelet
• Samsung A90 Phone
• Ipod Nano 7th Gen
• Dr Dre. Powerbeats Pro headphones
• CAT Tourniquet
• Pelican Flashlight
• Leatherman Skeletool
• Car Keys
• Pocket Tissues

It is a lot of gear to carry around, and given my perchance for running, I have to definitely have freedom of movement in whatever clothes I wear. I’ve ran in suits, street-wear and jeans, and enjoyed the feel of all of them.

If I can’t burst into a sprint at a moment’s notice, I automatically reject the garment.

So with those caveats in mind, here is a breakdown of the styles I follow.

Street.

David Belle performing a stunt in the film: District 13 Ultimatum (2009)

The first real style I began to invest in, once I left the bubble of high school, was street clothing.

I was obsessed with cargo pants; their utility, baggy fit, and durability beautifully dovetailed with the amount of concrete I was slamming my body into, when I was getting into parkour.

I still recall fondly my Under Armour cargo pants, which served me for nearly 5+ years, and got so worn around the knees, there were giant holes there. I had genuinely gone through the wringer with them and to pair with these pants, I mostly wore Nike black runners, and my black Reach parkour shirt.

If I was cold, I would buy a cheap hoodie, that I didn’t mind ripping holes into. I ended up going through two hoodies.

The first was a cheap British brand, I forget the name off, in which, after a year, the hem was perforated with holes, from my rough landings. The second was my Ubi-Workshop Assassin Creed II hoodie, which had a small eagle peak atop the hood.

It was this amazing red/black design, that I absolutely loved to wear everywhere and it was also tight and streamlined, thus allowing me full freedom of movement in it.

I was also skateboarding a lot back then, having just bought a cheap board, and then spray-painting it black and adding a red Spiderman logo on it. It suited my hoodie a lot, I must say.

That was my main look, I rocked throughout most of university, skateboarding or running around in that outfit, eager to feel pavement under my feet, instead of carpeted tutorial rooms.

I still own a lot of these items, but now I’ve added a lot more colour (pastel pink and blues) and long-sleeved shirts to them. There is a uniquely Melbourne brand I shop at, called Sure! whose streetwear I love, and support, because “streetwear” should ideally be linked to the city whose streets you love the most.

I don’t really do Supreme or anything similar, mostly because the concept of paying a lot to look a bit “drab” is bizarre to me. Streetwear should be comfortable, affordable and representative of your city. Anything else, just seems excessive.

If I had to sum up my streetwear, it’s mostly long-sleeved shirts, tapered pants, a lot of clothes from the Team Farang store and admittedly, a whole lot of black, because the holes and damage don’t show up as much, when I engage in rolls and tumbles across concrete.

My streetwear, is essentially based around parkour. Comfortable, slightly stylish and sleek outfits that make me feel cool, (physically and mentally) when running through the streets of Melbourne.

Out of the three styles, this one is probably has the least amount of investment in it, because I don’t do parkour as much anymore (even though I really want to), but it is the first adoption of any particular approach towards fashion.

And there are always things on the Team Farang store I really, really want to wear.

Paramilitary.

Lucas Botkin of T.Rex Arms fame, smiling for once. 

Out of the three styles, this is my general preference and the most I’ve actually invested in.

Christened by me as the “off-duty cop” look, it is the style that military or police adopt when trying their best to “blend” with society, but really, to anyone in the business, they stand out like a sore thumb.

It is also a look, that once called out, you can instantly see what it is.

Functional, practical, and slightly mismatched. You can instantly spot why certain articles of clothing enable certain movements and concealment of gadgets. It is also getting increasingly expensive, with the rise of “military Gucci” gear, like certain type of clothes costing exorbitant amounts, because they look good and serve a good function.

Very unlike a lot of gear out there that just serve a function and look horrific.

In my case, it bought about a whole new obsession with flannel shirts, and henley shirts. I ended up with a whole host of colours to suit any mood I am in, and I always invariably ended up rolling up my sleeves and leaving that shirt unbuttoned.

Due to my size and style, I actually buy a lot of these shirts from Muji whose style and philosophy allow for comfortable, simple and nondescript clothing really help play down my paramilitary vibe. Their flannel colours are always nice and I enjoy the little collar to add some depth to the shirts.

For my base layer, it tends to be henley shirts, or just good long-sleeved shirts ideally from Superdry or since I have recently explored and upgraded to this brand, Arc’teryx. Out of the two, I preferred Arc’teryx for their colours, fit and overall feel, but my biggest issue are their stock in Australia. The Canadian and American sites really showcase how much they have on offer, and the Australian website is truly awful in comparison.

I would also love to access the Arc’teryx LEAF collection but that is an impossibility here. I also adore their jackets. I am currently saving up for one, and will be very happy once I get their outer-shell jackets.

Another brand that has actually grown a lot here, is 5.11 Tactical whose pants are phenomenal for this style. They strike the right balance between functional and aesthetic, in particular I love their Defender-Flex jeans which just hits everything I want in a pair of denim pants.

In addition to that, I frequently wear their Apex pants, and swear by them, as one of the most comfortable and utilitarian pants out there.

A typical look for me, everyday, is to slip on a long sleeved Arc’teryx shirt, a nondescript Muji outer shirt, my 5.11 jeans, and my Under Armour Valsetz combat boots, with a Arx’teryx beanie to finish the look.

Every single one of my gadgets feel good in the pockets, or hidden away on my 5.11 belt (I have yet to get a belt from T.Rex Arms) and I feel like nothing is loose or showing too much on my body.

The outfit makes me feel rugged, ready and prepared for absolutely anything, while feeling relatively stylish and casual about anything.

I absolutely love this look, and feel like it is the best representation of who I am, and what I am about.

I’ve probably spent far too much accessorising this style too, with an ever growing list of beanies, gloves, Maxpedition bags, sunglasses and caps.

It is very American-influenced and I don’t mind too much if I am honest. Ruggedness is something I aspire for.

This style is at the moment, what peak Damocles emulates currently.

Suave.

Daniel Craig as 007 in Casino Royale (2006) 

Admittedly, one of the biggest influences for me growing up, in terms of cinema, narrative, style and even as a role model, was Daniel Craig and Martin Campbell’s interpretation of James Bond in the film Casino Royale.

Still my favourite Bond film to this day, with every facet of Bond ticked off beautifully, from exotic locales, to sultry femme fatales (Eva Green still captivates me to this day), Casino Royale was one of those films I rewatched so much, I almost remember every line.

It also sparked an interest in reading the Bond novels, a series which admittedly hasn’t aged particularly well, but serve more as an example of thinking and mindsets popular back then.

What did surprise me though, were the highly detailed description of luxury, interspersed with interesting prose about life, death and action scenes.

The food, clothes, drinks and locations were all vividly described in such detail, I can still remember memorable scenes of Bond eating a meal in the books.

Casino Royale nailed that level of detail and bought it into the modern age.

I don’t think there is a single outfit in that film, that Bond wears, that I have not sought to replicate in some shape or form, except maybe that Hawaiian shirt at the beginning of the film.

The leather jacket in Miami with that pastel blue colour remains something that haunts me, knowing that I can never pull of leather as well as Daniel Craig.

The dark blue Sunspel polo in the Bahamas remains an item, just out of my reach, my bank account unable to justify the price.

Casino Royale remains the fundamental template upon which I still base a lot of my looks around when it comes to more expensive and suave taste.

British luxury brands, are definitely something I have acquired a taste for, but am unable to afford.

Take for example, N.Peal whose amazing cashmere range has been featured extensively in Skyfall, Spectre and No Time To Die. The promotional imagery of all the films, have, in some shape or form, recommended N.Peal, even more than Tom Ford.

The gorgeous tactneck for the Spectre poster, and the classic British military-styled blue jumper for No Time to Die had me salivating for something similar to garb myself.

 That cashmere. 

The perfect blend of luxury and tactical classiness on display there. I don’t think you could look anymore espionage-y if you tried.

And that … is mostly the limit of my suave style. I adore functional clothing that is luxurious and stylish, and would probably gladly swap a lot of my flannel for those jumpers, if I knew I could pull them off confidently.

My style is mostly modelled after Bond’s casual clothing, less his suits, because admittedly, I don’t see myself wearing suits that often.

However, were I to fully suit up, I would probably no doubt spend 5K on getting a Tom Ford Windsor Suit. Tom Ford’s brand and style has become something of a quiet admiration for me. I love that he somehow balances American styling with hints of British and Italian in his suits and I really cannot wait to get a suit and have it tailored to me.

But currently, I will confess, I would rather get plate armour given a choice.

But the paramilitary style for me is actually nearing completion. I’ve nearly maxed out on all the items I really want to purchase. The suave style is my next target and I will no doubt be looking to get N.Peal items very, very soon.

In fact, I only recently bought a Barbour jacket, similar to Bond’s Skyfall finale which was easily the standout costume in that film. Something about the ruggedness, earthy tones and colour combination truly, told me that I needed to adopt something similar.

Skyfall’s Barbour Jacket on display in the highlands of Scotland.

The suave style is something I have a lot of interest and passion for, but … goddamn it, it is just so bloody expensive.

Soon though. Hopefully, one day I will achieve the heights of masculine fashion and be the envy of my past self.

Bonus: Racing

Charles Leclerc of Ferrari fame celebrating.

Even more of a pipe dream than my suave dream, are motorsport uniforms. I love racing suits and their casual uniforms. Classy, sporty and evocative uses of sponsors, I have always loved helmet designs and race suits, whether it is Formula 1 or MotoGP. Something about how utilitarian and functional they are at high speeds, while maintaining a distinct aesthetic really makes me wish I owned one for myself.

I particularly love helmet designs and if I am ever at a stage where I can customise my own, I will be over the moon.

I would probably go for a base of British Racing Green with accents of creamy gold  and a motif of a sword on the back of the helmet (sly reference to my name here).

But that description doesn’t really do justice to how it looks in my head.

Street, Paramilitary, and Suave. 

Those are the main styles that I wear in reality. I have invested the most in paramilitary and am seeking to expand my suave style.

Out of them all, I love paramilitary, since it feels like an extension of my personality.

But secretly, I really want suave to be the “me” people associate with.

Anyway, that is a brief breakdown of the style I predominantly wear, out and about.

Clothes are almost certainly a secret and quiet passion of mine, with so much variation, colour and styles out there, just waiting to be tried and worn out.

I do love fashion, but am certainly too poor to afford it as a pastime.

Damn it … N.Peal

~ Damocles. 

Be honest, how many of us actually started developing better habits in lockdown? 

I sure as hell didn’t.

I ended up gaining a whole lot of weight, having unfashionably long hair, and almost completely letting go of my strict diet.

The main saving grace, I suppose, is that I kept working. But the depressing vibes of working alone, in an empty store, at a depleted shopping centre, with nothing to do, ended up playing havoc with my sleeping habits, my motivation and my discipline.

The irony of COVID-19, is that I was earning more, both thanks to a very generous government and the inability to roster anyone else except myself.

But there was even less to do in these long 7 hour shifts.

Tired, lonely and my mouth aching from not actually talking to anyone, I would trundle home, eat dinner and then play games and mess about on my PC, until I would collapse from exhaustion at 3am in the morning.

Rinse and repeat.

The days would meld together, and I got more and more apathetic and dull.

Which is where I suppose, I should really thank Formula 1, for turning my life around again.

The return of my passion for racing, my inspiration for speed, my temple of pace, meant that I actually felt something break through the fog of desolation that had dictated so much of my life so far.

It got me back into racing games, transported me into genuinely wanting to be faster, smoother and agile and to re-evaluate myself and start losing weight again.

I think one of the biggest takeaways from COVID-19 has been an appraisal of personal health and well-being.

I’ve never seen so many out and about, taking walks, running and exercising, but also at the same token, I don’t think enough people are doing so too.

It’s so easy to fall into a daily routine of eating whatever you want, lounging on chairs, beds and couches, idly your time away, and reading the news about the latest COVID-19 case numbers.

I definitely can see the appeal.

It’s depressing to see numbers rise and rise, knowing that more and more of your city probably have COVID-19 and that this lockdown will only be extended longer and longer, impacting so many people’s lives.

Livelihoods and so much talent and potential has been laid waste by this virus and to fall into a funk, where you just want to watch Netflix and pretend everything is OK, that you are just holidaying in your home and taking time off work, is natural.

But, as I soon found out to my cost, that only adds depth to the bleakness.

Instead of swimming and surviving, I was sinking and suffocating.

It’s important to keep yourself sharp, at all times, when you are still able.

Old age might be encroaching, and your mortality can be held at bay if you keep yourself healthy.

Which is why I had to recapture the early spirit of 2020, when I was still hungry and eager.

I got to maintain my exercise regime and trim down more.

I have to keep practising the Spanish language, a promise I made to myself at the beginning of the year.

I need to keep writing, and make sure I can pump out at least 3 thousand words a week.

I made this series on COVID-19, and I aim to finish it.

I can’t keep abandoning things.

Personal habits should be routines you need to make, develop and adopt, not something you relapse or collapse into.

It’s damn hard to motivate yourself out of bad personal habits though.

But that is what makes you stronger, better and more productive.

Good discipline, good habits, adherence to strict routines, and constant exploration of hobbies and new interesting ideas are what creates a spice to life, that keeps you going.

Without a healthy mix of all those things, you’ll keep generating a listlessness to your life, and let COVID-19 win.

COVID-19 has created an unprecedented pause in society. Work is now cancelled and as are a lot of other things you used to do for fun.

Whether it was as simple as going to a bar for a pint, or as complex as organising a street festival celebrating a film festival, a lot of these options have been robbed from us by this pandemic.

But a pause should never be a stop. You can keep progressing, you can keep continuing on your journey.

I still have this dream of being able to race for real one day, instead of a simulator. I won’t really stop until I get to achieve that first step. I got a lot more personal training to do on my side, so much more to learn about cars, pace and speed.

I still want to continue my event business and become proud of what I’ve achieved on my own.

I still want to compete in a 3-gun competition.

I still want to publish my own novel one day too.

None of these things, have been stopped by COVID-19. Instead it’s given me more time to practice, to “dry-fire” and develop the skills I need to, without the external pressure.

Always keep training, always keep pushing your limits.

COVID-19 can’t stop you from doing that.

It sure as hell, won’t stop me.

Be disciplined, be astute and be exceptional.

Vincit qui se vincit.

He conquers, who conquers himself.

~ Damocles. 

When you imagine what an Australian apocalypse looks like, chances are, you’ll conjure up images of Mad Max. 

As much as I would like to witness such an event here in Australia and secure my ticket to Valhalla, COVID-19 isn’t the apocalyptic event that will usher in a new era of V8 worship.

What I want to discuss here, is the concept of prepping and survivalism. What has been bought sharply into focus, is the idea that a global crisis will envelope everyone, and suddenly you are on your own.

You can’t trust your neighbours, your friends have all disappeared and so your only option is to head out to your bug-out shelter, grab that emergency survival bag and get out of town and hunker down. You’ve got enough food and shelter for yourself, to last several months, and you’re glad you’ve prepared whilst everyone else is suffering.

To me, after watching the Warrior Poet Society’s video, there were a lot of adjusting I had to do mentally, to really understand the realistic intent behind my bag, that I’ve invested in.

I lack a lot of survival skills. I don’t have any proper military training beyond shooting a rifle, and such skills aren’t really useful if you don’t actually own a damn rifle.

I also have a girlfriend and her immediate family to be concerned about. I doubt that I will be abandoning her, my own family just to gallivant around in the woods, on my own.

What is of use to me, are my friends, who have a lot more experience than I do. That is the network that I should be focusing my energy and time on, not spending on tactical gear and filling out a Book of Eli fantasy.

If a true apocalypse arrives, you cannot survive on your own. Humanity for most of its history, has proven time and time again, that protection in a large group is what saves you, as an individual. From the time we’ve dwelled in caves, to now, we are strong together, not alone.

So the real, reality of bugging-out in an apocalypse, is that you should have a prep bag to get you to your network of friends and family. A bag that will allow you to survive until you’ve reached your group hangout. Which is where the marriage of EDC (Every Day Carry) and Bug-Out Bag comes into fruition.

If your hideaway is far and remote, then you need to pack and sort accordingly and have that bag with you handy, wherever you go, so that when shit does go down, you can survive the trip to that hideaway.

However, do we really need such extreme measures for survival?

The question I want to pose to myself and everyone else out there, is that will society ever truly collapse? COVID-19 showed that humanity has the ability to bounce back against such disruptive measures to civilisation and continue to function, barring from a few weeks of insanity.

The only real time such “prepping” may come in handy, would be an invasion by a hostile force, nuclear winters or God forbid, “zombie”-style apocalypse. A lot is riding on you to actually survive the initial onslaught and make it to your hideout.

That is the argument though, if such an instance actually occurs, you got your supplies and abilities to survive on. If you are one of the lucky few to live beyond the first initial disaster, you can thrive on your early preparedness.

Additionally, even if you were to perish early on, at least you could rest easier knowing that your network of friends and family could take advantage of the early preparation you had all invested in.

The reality of bugging out in a true pandemic, is that there is a lot of money, investment and skills you need to learn, in order to prepare properly. A lot of equipment is restricted to military use, and in fact, a lot of preparation is taught for the military, when you are more likely to face “S&E – Survival & Evasion” situations, with your squad captured and death, and you have to escape to friendly lines.

Even in that situation, the goal is not to survive endlessly in the woods, but to just survive until you reach friendly forces.

Prepping is as much paranoia as it is stress-relief, where you fear for your own life and unknown threats, but the skills, and companions you get along the way to assuage this fear, also allows you to tap into something you never really you knew you had before … the ability to excel at a lot of things.

Skills learnt in a survivalist camp, so to speak, allows you to really appreciate long-lost underappreciated skills that a lot of people lack. Getting back to the roots of humanity, with tracking skills, hunting, sleeping rough, identifying animals and edible plants and so much more, are all valuable and stress-reliving activities that acknowledge the huge information gap people aren’t aware they lack today.

It empowers you, knowing that you have such skills at your deployment and allows you to appreciate the dangers and folly of surviving on your own, if you still fantasise about the Book of Eli. 

In addition, doesn’t it just make sense to have someone around in case of injury? If you sprain your ankle, and run out of food, you might starve to death. Surviving alone too, causes a lot of mental instability and in all honesty, there are too many times in life, when you need to rely on someone.

The truth is, COVID-19’s pandemic served as a small wake-up call for me. I had to be more realistic about my prepping and about why I was doing it. This was a small crisis, in comparison to the larger fears I had about nuclear winters or zombie apocalypses.

It revealed I had to be smarter about it all, spend more time preparing my network, not my gear and invest in skills that will actually serve me well.

I also realised that in the first initial stage of any crisis, people tend to go nuts, so I better prepare myself for shortages.

Despite this, I still commend most governments for their work and response to this unprecedented crisis. I still don’t really trust them and their judgement, but there is at least a sense that we might come out of this, battered, bruised, but ultimately stronger.

There is still so much for me to work on.

~ Damocles.