Candidly, the posts I made a year ago, and even those from seven years past, have evaporated from my memory, much like some words of my parents. As I journey onward, it’s as if I’m adrift at sea without sight of any guiding beacon. Confronted by fierce winds and foreboding clouds, I find myself in a quandary over whose hand might anchor me amidst life’s roiling tempests. Yet, in a twist of stark realization, I find that it’s only my own hand available to clutch – a solitary, unaided struggle against the relentless sea.
I met failure, the relentless waves overpowered my boat, flipping it over. Struggling in the water, I realized my inability to swim, and slowly, I descended to the ocean’s depths. There, in that silent, underwater world, I encountered a realm unlike any other. Schools of fish in vibrant hues darted around me, a spectacle of life thriving under the sea. Towering underwater mountains loomed, their majesty hidden beneath the waves. My fingers grazed over the sea’s hidden treasures, relics and riches unseen by the surface world. It was a surreal journey, one that unfolded without the opportunity for farewells, a silent departure into an unknown world beneath the surface, where time and reality seemed to stand still.
Whom should I bid farewell in this solitary moment? ‘Goodbye,’ I whispered to myself.