originally posted on june 23th 2023.

One never knows the velocity of negative emotions before it completely overwhelms the bearer and its surrounding.

The last 90+ calendar days have culminated into one razing rousing splat of red. I am almost thirty and every other game of life (and its plethora of infinite possibilities) was over for me. It was unbearable and almost sickeningly cruel in the actions (and its lack of), in the spoken words (said behind closed doors), in the people (hidden behind masks) and only when its reinvented and packaged as a game, it becomes almost tolerable. Knowing how to play was the key and it only bequeath the tin men of the world to inherit and to play.

After it all, humans (myself included) disappoint me over and over. Men dressed in immaculate suit, in loose t-shirt and in plastered wry smiles. Some days, I recall the sharp grinding of teeth, the torn fleshy fingernails punctuated by the uncomfortable hesitation dripping through. The fickle egos of yesteryears and chauvinism of today fiercely held back the cathartic ‘sorry sorry sorry’ I stubbornly needed to hear.

Maybe, I have bad insight into the intricacy of human’s minds and motivations or maybe somewhere fundamentally, I continue to trudge along, willingly wearing rose tinted glasses because I saw but I wanted to believe in goodness and turned a blind eye. We lie and find faults in others to tolerate our own existence. Maybe, at the end I was also the same tin man, creating agency and lying to myself, as with them.

Mid-way, I stopped playing and became the target of the game. The gradual decline of Soviet Union was a series of internal disintegration, which eventually culminated into its destruction. Internal strife arise, factions occur and saw a dissolution in trust. Things happened in a chain reaction and a nation never knows the velocity of its negative emotions before it completely overwhelms itself.

There’s a story that etches on my mind:

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. —Martin Niemöller

originally posted on june 23th 2023.

One never knows the velocity of negative emotions before it completely overwhelms the bearer and its surrounding.

The last 90+ calendar days have culminated into one razing rousing splat of red. I am almost thirty and every other game of life (and its plethora of infinite possibilities) was over for me. It was unbearable and almost sickeningly cruel in the actions (and its lack of), in the spoken words (said behind closed doors), in the people (hidden behind masks) and only when its reinvented and packaged as a game, it becomes almost tolerable. Knowing how to play was the key and it only bequeath the tin men of the world to inherit and to play.

After it all, humans (myself included) disappoint me over and over. Men dressed in immaculate suit, in loose t-shirt and in plastered wry smiles. Some days, I recall the sharp grinding of teeth, the torn fleshy fingernails punctuated by the uncomfortable hesitation dripping through. The fickle egos of yesteryears and chauvinism of today fiercely held back the cathartic ‘sorry sorry sorry’ I stubbornly needed to hear.

Maybe, I have bad insight into the intricacy of human’s minds and motivations or maybe somewhere fundamentally, I continue to trudge along, willingly wearing rose tinted glasses because I saw but I wanted to believe in goodness and turned a blind eye. We lie and find faults in others to tolerate our own existence. Maybe, at the end I was also the same tin man, creating agency and lying to myself, as with them.

Mid-way, I stopped playing and became the target of the game. The gradual decline of Soviet Union was a series of internal disintegration, which eventually culminated into its destruction. Internal strife arise, factions occur and saw a dissolution in trust. Things happened in a chain reaction and a nation never knows the velocity of its negative emotions before it completely overwhelms itself.

There’s a story that etches on my mind:

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. —Martin Niemöller