Thoughts

As for now where my story has caught up i don't really got interesting things going on my life to talk about.

The ceiling had become a familiar sight. I lay on my bed, phone in hand, scrolling through social media like I had nothing better to do. Maybe I didn't. My days followed the same pattern—reading when I felt like it, sketching when inspiration hit, playing chess or mahjong when I wanted a challenge. But most of the time, I just existed, letting the hours slip away.

I wasn't sad. I wasn't particularly happy either. Just… here.

I've never really talked about the good things in life before. Not because I don't think they exist, but because my mind doesn't stay on them for long. I guess I've always been more focused on the strange parts of the world—the way people act, the things they say without thinking, how none of it really makes sense when you stop to question it.

And maybe that's why I've always felt… different.

Not in an obvious way. If you saw me, you wouldn't think, Oh, there goes a weird guy. But inside, I've always felt a little detached, like I'm watching everything from the outside rather than being a part of it. People laugh at jokes that aren't funny. They get worked up over things that don't matter. They follow trends without questioning why. And I just sit there, wondering if I'm the one who doesn't get it—or if they're the ones pretending.

Discipline is something I respect, but the truth is, I don't always have it. People say it's the key to success, that motivation is unreliable, but for me, motivation is everything. When I'm focused, I go all in. I don't stop until I've finished what I started. But when my brain decides it's time to rest, I shut down completely. No in-between. One moment, I'll be working like a machine. The next, I'll be lying in bed, unable to do anything, even though I know I should.

And then there's social media.

Every day, I see people talking like they've figured out life. "Pain isn't real." "Depression is a choice." "You're weak if you can't push through." And the worst part? People actually believe it. They nod along like these random internet strangers are wise philosophers instead of just people typing words on a screen.

If discipline and hard work were all it took, then why do so many people fail? I know people who work themselves to the bone and never get anywhere. I know people who have discipline but no results. Success isn't just about effort—there's luck, timing, circumstances. But no one wants to admit that.

Sometimes, I wonder if I think too much. If I'm just overanalyzing things that don't need to be analyzed. Maybe life isn't as complicated as I make it out to be. But at the same time, I can't stop myself from questioning everything.

My family? It's… fine. Not terrible, not amazing. They criticize me when I fail and praise me when I succeed. That's just how it is. I don't really talk to them much unless I have to. It's not that I don't care—it's just that there's nothing to say. Conversations feel like routine, something we do because we're supposed to, not because we really connect. Maybe that's normal. Maybe that's just how families are.

And then there's me.

I can be dramatic. I like attention, even if I don't say it out loud. When people notice me, when they admire me, it feels… good. Like I matter. Like I'm important. Sometimes, I don't even have to do anything—people just look, and I can feel their eyes on me. Maybe it's because I don't talk much. Maybe it's because I give off some kind of presence. Either way, I can tell when I have people's attention, and I quite like it.

Like their the time when i was returning from college as the class finished

On my way to bus stop two kid from different school comes up to me and says:

"Are you a gangster?"

A gangster really? At 1st i thought they were just saying things.

So i was like what? And they goes:

"Your face you look like a gangster"

I have gotten many compliments on my face throughout my life but this one was the most unique one at that moment all tension faded for a second their.

It's not like I go out of my way to be noticed. I don't seek it. But when it happens, I don't mind. Though feel like an arrogant it feels quite nice, being admired just for existing.

Feels like i am beyond the scope of normal people like a celebrity in a sense.

These are just thoughts, passing through my mind like everything else. Maybe I'm overthinking. Maybe I'm just being honest. Either way, the world keeps turning, and I'll keep watching, questioning, and figuring things out in my own way. I don't know what's ahead of life or what's gonna be the conclusions of my story but i hope it's a good one leaving me with only little regret.

---