I prefer experiences and quality merriment. We can eat and drink in a hole in the wall, and I wouldn’t bat an eye as long as I’m laughing with you. Also, it helps that I still am that kid who has an infallible grade-school memory.
I’m a flaming extrovert who loves solitude and my own company. I could tolerate days inside my little cell, impervious to any external human stimulation, and still thrive. After leaving school, it didn’t change much. I just added work on the equation but I still read voraciously and suffer from occasional staircase wit in that little space.
This post was supposed to be of the things that I learned and achieved this year. But an all-encompassing story wouldn’t hurt either. What’s the last day of the year anyway but a reflection of one’s self?
Maybe. Just maybe, these mountains have the answers to everything. But like any wise man, they choose to remain silent because they know better than nonsense clamor. So, I look up to them. In awe.
“So, I boarded the bus, sat close to the window next to an old man holding a chicken. When my esteemed window didn’t offer much but dirt and slab of concrete, I observed the chaos inside the old bus. All kindness and humanity emanating from a crowded, rickety ride “
I remember taking these photos drenched in sweat, carrying a huge backpack and tripod whilst navigating through the throng of wonderful Nepalis. I looked horrible.
“Perhaps a personal trope or what, but words aren’t the best judge of one’s emotions and thoughts, right? Always lacking in some form regardless of superlatives.”
“Funny how things turned out, right? Who would have thought that this year would get lost in a miasma of anxiety about things we can’t fully grasp. I can’t thoroughly wrap my head around it. Yet I think we can all relate that we’re merely blind followers of safety protocols these days.”