it’s here. i’m going to commit to writing long form. i’m going to try to commit to writing long form. why the lowercase? why the separate space in this blog that i’ve outgrown? i don’t know. i’ve always wanted to write more long term things on my own and was moved to do this after reading DRMacIver’s Notebook, in particular his writing about drifting. this document, this page, this note, is gonna be me trying to force myself to write more. it’s not gonna be clean, it’s not gonna be pretty, what it is is basically a glorified twitter thread. uncoherent, shitty grammar, wordvomity, and probably a whole lot of language switching later on.

there’s a few things that i’ve been dying to talk about more in the past few days, in particular my entire ordeal with education that have shifted and also my fear of sex. this place is gonna be a no barred place, maybe. i’m going to be writing it like a diary. a public diary. why? mostly because writing one thousand one thousand worded fully thought out article is a fucking impossible task and therefore it should be seen more as a writing exercise, a place to put down my thoughts, because who will be reading this if not myself in the future? it’s better for me to be able to express myself in any shape and form rather than me not being able to write anything.

really, the decision to write and start this project is totally out of the blue and not at all well thought out. well, not really. it is well thought out. there’s nothing wrong with writing more. i need to write more. to have proof of work. proof that i have thought about what i thought about. it came fleeting in the wind earlier this morning. a totally bland and normal monday morning, the first week of truly being alive since last week was me drifting hard back in my parents place in Semarang. i didn’t really feel like i was in the real world when i’m with my parents. it feels so heavenly, so calm, so serene, and today i am fully back in the real world. spent the majority of the day tinkering with the page on Elementor (i am a massive wordpress user not a true programmer) because to me that’s really what things are all about. tinkering. it’s fun to tinker around. i find it cathartic to be able to try and put my ideas into the world, whatever form that might be.

there are no goals. i lie. there are goals. see, this is the kind of writing that you will see, not a coherent series of thoughts but a conversation, my conversation, with myself. it’s me trying to write down whatever come to my head the way i tried back during my twitter sabatical, but without stopping the twitter part. anyway. goals. the goal is to be able to write what is on my mind more. to be able to write more. to be able to maybe out of the trenches of these empty thoughts i have in my brain, get something out of them. a gem, maybe. a thought that is worth repeating. i wouldn’t know if there would be one, i haven’t tried. but maybe after a year of doing this almost everyday it would look better.

see, writing this is already hard. maybe because i dont have a coherent idea for this exact post. maybe it’s because this is a vibe setting post. maybe because it’s the start and it’s hard. i’m already moving off, looking at twitter, hoping for there to be a notification. hoping that there would be something to move me away from this eternal drifting that i am feeling at this very moment. trying to run away from sitting with my problems, because a part of me truly believe that if i just sit still and accept my problems it would go away, and that would be a problem.

ah! that’s another thing i could write about. my problem of having no problem. my problem of generating problems that matter to me. see, friend, me, readers, listeners, i think there are actually thoughts in my brain and not just mush. i would know because if in discussion i could consistently talk about basically everything if i was in the middle of a conversation, but given a stage to speak my mind alone? poof. nothing. it’s like there’s an endless void within me from which anything could be created, but only if prompted. weird, the brain is. i don’t know how much this is true for everyone though. some of my friends, my mutuals, the people i look up too, seems to have these talking points and they seemingly could talk about so many things unprompted.

this brings me to think about emails though. i wrote a lot in my correspondence with Milen, in poetic proses that are not me, because i summoned a 16th century romantic prince poet, writing to their friends and loved ones with such vigor and power, willingly defending their stance, knowing full well that who ever they’re in correspondence with have enough dignity and respect for both them self and him that he is able to fully embody his entire being in his writing without fear about being ridiculed for it. maybe one of these writings will be that, maybe more than one, maybe i will give him a name, when it is not nobu hibiki, not yudhistira, when it is someone else. maybe not, maybe i will realign them to be one person. no more pseudonames. no more splitting who i am. maybe, or maybe not.

i hope i can post consistently in this place. maybe reach 100 before the end of the year, maybe more. a thousand is a lot, you know. not just a thousand words, but a thousand thousand words. thank you for reading, hopefully this is useful, if not for anyone else then for myself. i will see you soon.