It was not an easy year to love

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Thailand. There is something about the energy here. Could it be that I'm sensitive? Here and there, the air feels layered thick with sadness. Like a too-rich cream squashing the lightness out of the spongecake.
I may have been imbibing this heaviness even before I became aware of it—
The meltdown at the market.
The migraines.
A constant palpitating uneasiness, heart thumping in ears.
Disharmony. With my self, with him. Within, without.
It got more intense when I arrived in Bangkok.
Heavy is the traffic, the exhaust and exhaustion, the smiling faces, the sleepless lights, the air, the airlessness, the flavours and fragrances, the Birkins, Chanel 25s and Dior Bobbys.
Shoulders and footsteps.
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Veiled, not invisible.
Shadowed alleys,
Untold stories—
                  sorrows,
When the sky darkens, all you can see are lights,
bright lights
All that glitters through held tears
All this beauty is the beast.
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I'm losing track of the days. I was a little shocked to learn it was Saturday. It did not feel like a Saturday. It did not feel like any day at all. I'm reminded of something the Danish author Solvej Balle said in an interview: 

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What is my intention? I just want to document what inspired me. What I observed. What I overheard. What made me feel things—mirth and melancholy. Painting these days of my life in words. In black and white, which of course, life never is.
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Two more days to a new year. But why am I counting? Every day is a chance and a choice at a new beginning. January 1 is an excuse for procrastination. Two more days, we tell ourselves. After that? Comes another: Oh, it isn't a new year until the Lunar New Year. It goes on. But life doesn't do dressed rehearsals. The sun does not wait for January 1, 2026—or any arbitrary date that feels "right" and convenient—to rise again.
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What’s going to happen?
Bella Freud says she decided to stop consulting the psychics.
"What happens is what I make happen."
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Crossing the road in Bangkok is a lesson in swift, bold decision-making, having the guts to take the first step out, and trusting knowing that your decision will get you to the other side in tact.
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The excitement of walking through these streets, past these shop windows for the first time. What are people making? Why do people make what they make?
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I’ve been thinking about what I have learned in the last two months since I set foot on this adventure. I've travelled through Tokyo, Izu, Seoul, Busan, Chiang Mai, Hua Hin and now Bangkok. Have I gotten any closer to… Closer to what? I keep going on about my search for answers. What are the questions? Maybe that's the real question.
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But I'm not alone.
"Lots of thoughts but no answers," Charnise synopsises how she is doing.
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I talk a good game about self-love. But I must be honest: Talk is easy. I haven't been doing such a good job at giving my self the love and care I need. (Not the healthy kind anyway.)
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I watch the rise and fall of my melancholy and see no reason for its existence.
I am not not happy. But I’m not happy either. Is it possible that our constant pursuit of happiness is keeping us in a loop of misery? A prison of our own design. Being in constant pursuit means always getting there, never arriving. But all I have to do is decide to stop. Stand still and take notice of the happiness that is here. Stop looking for happiness, look at it instead.
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Oh, how we obliterate our selves in order to become someone else.
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I was planning on writing a love letter to 2025.
It was not an easy year to love.
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Still, the sun rises.
Here I am
Rendered golden in her path.
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What will I make happen today? 

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Stay home, be with your self, with a book. Unintruded by other people's small talk, their drama and choice of music. Look out the window and daydream. Watch the clouds do their own thing, unconcerned. Rest your body and mind. Return your nervous system to safety. Watch a movie and jot down lines that make you smile, cry, go hmmm. Listen to a podcast, or an astrology reading, bare-faced and filled with purposeless joy.
I love the way you love yourself.
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Kenosis:
The practice of emptying oneself completely out.
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"I'm tired," he said. "But I feel guilty for taking a nap."
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Bella Freud on the How To Fail With Elizabeth Day podcast:
On self sabotage:

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Everyone is going on about understanding and learning artificial intelligence. Meanwhile, I am still trying to understand myself and learning the art of being human.
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At the cafe the other day, overheard a man say to his friends: "AI is not going to replace humans in Australia", and I felt comforted.
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When I am done shedding all that I am not—and don't want to be—anymore, who will still be here—and love—who I really am?
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Life is one long love story.
Life is one love story long.
It is too short.
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Embrace unhurried moments.
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She texted, said she'll have to go for a lumpectomy in January. They found some abnormal cells in her left breast. I stared at my phone screen glaring back at me. I wanted so badly to offer her words of comfort. But I know—there are no such words. Instead, I cried. This is her battle. All I can do is let her know, I'm here.
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What comes after The Tower card?
The Star.