A note: This reflection was written a few days after “Confessions“. It continues my inner dialogue—an ongoing effort to process, heal, and reclaim emotional stability.
I really need to figure this out. My heart is aching. I feel betrayed—by myself. I did this to myself, and I don’t know why. Or rather, I do know why.
The laws of nature can easily turn their back on you. You’re worried about your future.
You know you need to do certain tasks. You know you have to do it alone and without stopping, because time is fu*king limited.
You know heroes don’t get to skip hardship.
They go through difficulty—again and again.
And you have to be strong.
To become who you want to be, you must be clear about your thoughts. You must learn to be alone—focused, disciplined, determined.
Strength is part of the journey. You have to continue relentlessly. Endure the pain of being broken if you want to reach a higher goal. This is not negotiable.
Don’t question it. Just do it.
There’s a block, and you have to face it.
You must find a way through it—not around it.
As long as you run from it, or ignore it, you remain trapped inside it.
Face it.
Stop wasting time with avoidance or rejection.
You need to sit down and fucking do it. No matter how painful it is.
Promise me, when it gets hard, you won’t run away.
Looking into the future is a false promise.
You should hit the ground running—right now, in this very moment.
If you don’t start now, there will be no future for what you’re trying to build.
Don’t listen to the resistance in your mind—it’s tricking you.
Sometimes, your mind is your demon.
Promise me, no matter what, you won’t ask “why.” You’ll just act.
Every time I try to focus, a flood of thoughts starts tickling my mind. At first vague, general ideas—then more specific ones.
Don’t let your mind become a trickster.
Your mind belongs to you—it is part of you.
It behaves the way you train it.
Don’t feed it junk. Don’t underestimate its suggestibility.
It’s an easy believer.
In the modern world, not everyone gets a shot at fame or success.
Even Tolstoy—when he was at his most famous—was at his saddest.
He was haunted by suicidal thoughts. His book Confessions is all about that.
As you grow older—and hopefully wiser—life becomes more painful.
The weight of its injustice gets harder to bear.
But deep down, you know what others forget:
There’s no such thing as permanence.
Everything flows. Everything changes.
The stream of life is so intense that if you don’t build solid ground beneath you, you’ll be washed away—not just you, but your beliefs, your convictions, your direction.
Life can become meaningless much faster than you expect.
But there are ways to stop that from happening. In the post “Steps to Emotional Healing” I try to name my rules which helped me to get back to myself.
