I took this picture in the courtyard at the cost of second cigarette that I should probably not smoke. The light itself just suddenly reminded me of the light on Basilica San Nicola in Bari, Italy that I witnessed last year. The old town of Bari was very lovely. I remembered while I was not very happy in the way I wished to be, I was happy for visiting this lively city and seeing the views, and that the old town is still being as it should be–for locals, rather than tourists.

That being said, the reason why I am here again is because of the sudden sorrow–or sorrows–which I’ve been fighting almost for the whole day. It can be the loneliness; it can be the pressure of the readings and writing; it can be missing someone.

Sometimes I thought this is probably the true me, albeit I believe it’s just the one that I’m too used to, that I’ve been living for a long time, particularly the years before the third years of my undergraduate.

I might say I do feel more ‘with’ myself when I am peacefully, lightly sorrow.

Anyway, as I recalled Bari, I realised again that I couldn’t recall much–as much as I would hope to be vivid memories as if I were there. And it reminds me of the post I wrote on the second last day of 2017.

This afternoon¹ when I was smoking in the courtyard, I suddenly felt a slight bit of pain, and told myself: ‘It’d be awful if this continues to be the life I’d have a few years later in 30s. I should be with someone.’

The disconnection again feels strong, and I’m not sure if I can still love like quite a few weeks ago.

I should probably be ashamed by writing these things on my blog. I do wish that some time later I can write some other things that are more ‘happy’, or more ‘useful’. Being genuine is of course not a bad thing in general, but I wonder how many people care about it nowadays, especially online. Perhaps being genuine is embarrassing, and sometimes can be as harsh as the nature itself such that those who are confronted cannot withstand.

It is okay to feel sad. But I don’t want to.

Before reading the following old post, here is a nice work, Absence by Kristjan Randalu, which fits my feeling at the moment:

I’ve seen the wonderful northern light at Tromsø harbour on 24th. The next night I made a silly ice cross there while waiting for the light in the dark cold night. Then on 26th, I went on a night excursion to the wild of northern Norway and luckily viewed the marvellous Norwegian mountains and three big waves of northern light along with taking several good shots of photos.

I went through all these events with vivid excitement that had made me feel what it is to have an active life. At every moment of those nights, I could feel the energy and happiness inside me. The awe and wonder I felt were all real–at those moments.

Now at this late night of insomnia, I cannot recall the same vividity. The memory feels dull, numb, filled with lines of sentences. All too semantic. The same goes for much valuable time this year–there were wonderful people or events–as I could not picture or even remember what had happened. For many events, I could only say ‘it had happened’ without the support of the visual experience in memory, which I used to have a lot. As time goes and the more I try to recall them, I start to worry, like Winston in ‘1984’, if things did happen.

Perhaps the last depression has destroyed my ability of episodic memory to a great extent; perhaps as age grows my brain dies faster than my body; perhaps it is just what Buddha has revealed thousands of years ago that the five aggregates as well as every dharma are ’empty’ and forever changing. What I do know is that not being able to remember clearly and vividly is one of the biggest pity of 2017 for me.

It is scary to watch myself in the mirror and start to wonder if ‘that’ is me, the one I remember–what do I remember?

But above all, I think it is still a good year. I have been finding myself very lucky to the extent that I want to become a Christian so I may thank God properly (sorry my Muslim friends). I truly want to thank my father and share some stories or experiences with him, to hear his advice for me, but I don’t know if he is still metaphysically existent. Surely my family, but nowadays we talk much less, and less meaningfully.

I want to thank all the wonderful people I’ve met, known, had fun with this year. Wish I could make some good food and coffee for you if there would ever be such a chance again.

Today when I was walking on the lovely European streets I wondered if whatever right would always be good, or vice versa. I have been wondering if I am a good person and how to determine morality. How could we ‘jump’, correctly, from the true metaphysics of person (if we would ever achieve one) to a, or the true ethics (if we would have the possibility to find one)?

Right now, I just hope I would be able to sleep.

Last modified on 2018-05-18