Since arriving in Thailand, my lonely state has been reinvigorated. Several moments have been a reminder of the person I am. On one hand, I want to make moments that will help me recount good times in Thai. On the other hand, I want to be me and please none by my side, taking advantage that none around here knows me in details. The social me that was in the past keeps itself at war; to get out and make friends, build a company of great people to help me live, and impact a life out there.

Yet it is the lonely moments that seems to triumph. I have absolutely no issue with this. Only afraid that those around me might get tired of sending invites to me for socialike activities.

My conversation seems utterly affected by the lone moments. Not to mention my new assignment at work, that I understand not expectations. Though a good way to reflect on if this is the type of work I want to do, it nevertheless make me more lost. I still feel the inner strength to keep moving on, though quickly fading away. I have hoped against hope in the days past. The hope that I cling to is the reminder to my soul of the past victories. I will hang on. I hope that strength will be provided.

The lone moments have taken me to the past. Today, I had to lie. To speak that I am 29. Not really a lie. But my own construction of where my life is. Then did I remember. Of the greatest promise to myself. Inspired by moments from deep prayers and meditation. 29 would be a turning point to live not for myself but for my family.

When 29th year came, there was indeed a turn around. No family at sight though. But moments of reflections of who I am. I haven’t had my mind made up yet on how life should be; not with a family, flesh of my flesh, but with myself and a family probably not of my own flesh. My identity, as if a teenager, was at first challenged. How could I have taken this long to discover the I? It was not yes or no, but rather a surrender to the fact that I will hence forth live extraordinary life.

I still don’t know how many years it will take to get up again, and let the people know. All I can feel is the change of how tabulating the years has become. From 29, I didn’t jump into 30 the following year. Seasons have not been defined by fall, summer, autumn, and spring any more. As a matter of fact, if these four seasons happens, they take longer than usual. Or in the worst cases, the range of them four has not been complete since 29.

Maybe when I break out, things will be different, and awesomely so.

In my loneliness, I have lost a sense of home. While in Thai, the places that I miss are not the blood-connected ancestral lands. Japan, though with lots of mixed feelings, has a closer tie to my heart. There are no many head counts of great reliable friends. And my guilt keeps me reminded of the sins I have committed against a few. But Kianjokoma is definitely not where memories of great moments stops.

In such a moment, I have concluded therefore, that when this season is over, I will be awesomely able to tell the whole story. To understand. To hold a hand of another. To smile with both friends and foes. To forget the pain of lone moments. The prayer is that I can be strong in the lone times. That I won’t look at the sun when it downs, or count on spring blossoms. I will look at them blossom yet understand that the new season might have not began after all. But someday……someday…..I’ll fly.

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