A Dimple of Writing in a Day’s Work

The only certain things in life are death and taxes.

I once read that somewhere. I forgot where. These days, I’d be lucky to write a few words for myself; often, I have to peruse through numerous technical words. Sometimes, I feel like my soul died in exchange for something tangible and worthy. Sometimes, I feel like I am an ambitious madman with dreams bigger than my whole self. I have a galaxy of goals and I have my meager resources to toy with. Just this tiny head full of ideas and some basic means of carrying things out.

After four years of being an engineer, I finally gained some footing in optimizing my life. It meant a great deal of sacrifices, sacrifices that a lot of people are not willing to make. I must have been a masochist for signing up for the difficult and heavy things. But I cannot see myself doing otherwise.

I endured paycuts and paychecks that do not go on time, intellectual pursuits hampered by inefficiencies, and dreams crushed by the simple reality that life is unfair.

I have already dealt with the fact that life is unfair, that bimbos with slightly used brains can have infinitely more resources to waste, that being smart does not necessarily make you materially well off, that I was born digging my way up and not having a solid footing to begin my life with. I look at it all in the business-like eye of someone who has been desensitized considerably with all the pain this has accumulated in me all these years.

I look at it with gratitude, but a bittersweet type of gratitude that appreciates how I can see all these things and remain standing, and writing this all down for digital safekeeping. Like a survivor.

I am using a pocket of today’s time to write this down because I know that in a few minutes, I will once again be drowned by the tides of this path I have chosen for myself. It’s difficult but for as long as I think that what I am doing is worth my while, I will stay in this course.

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