Oct, 9 (Edisi ga jadi nonton LANY)

Today was meant to be my happiest day of the year.

I woke this morning with a weight in my chest, as if a part of me was slipping away—a part that held me upright. But today, it longs to drift with the breeze of fate, leaving me fragile. I lingered in bed, unmoving for what felt like ages, as I struggled to grasp a surrender that seemed so hard to reach.

And so, I remained there, suspended between what was and what is yet to come, waiting for peace to find me.

October has always been my time to let go—to embrace the purity of my deepest sincerity, to acknowledge that as a fragile soul, I can only plan. To accept, as a finite being, that not all desires align with reality.

To release; to surrender. Such is life. A part of us departs, only to be replaced by another.

I realized that perhaps happiness doesn't always come as expected. It slips through in quiet moments of acceptance, in the soft release of what no longer serves us.

As one part of me fades with the wind, another is ready to bloom, nurtured by the acceptance I’ve been learning to hold. And so, with each breath, I am reminded: to let go is not to lose, but to make room for all that is still to come.

Lastly, I’ll close by quoting the lyrics from eleventwelfth’s song:

“I’d like to see what hides behind, the upcoming fate am I ready to cross the line?”

—vic