Date Archives January 2026

It’s strange how some feelings can’t be described in words at all. I have been trying to catch up with all the emotions and translate them in writing. But can this really be translated? It just sits with me. Quietly. Like it always belonged here. Somehow it’s still hard to put it in words. And it’s even funnier, I call myself a writer?

I really thought I had already left this behind.
I really did.
I told myself I wasn’t carrying it anymore. But some baggage is… weirdly heavier. Not in a way that it is dragging me down. More like a familiar weight you don’t realize you’re still holding until you just can’t flip the next page.

Or maybe it’s all just in my head.
I keep telling myself that too.

Every morning, I made a prmoise to myself to do something different and make a fresh new start. Has it been a month already?

And yet, something in me lingers. I don’t exactly know what.
Just enough to make me stop a little longer and feel it all before moving forward.

It feels like I’m being quietly pushed towards acceptance, even though I’ve never been good at letting my emotions come to the surface easily. I’ve learned to keep them folded neatly inside; layered with little puzzles that no one can really decode.

Still, sitting with them like this oddly annoys me to the core, too. Or maybe writing this piece in the first place wasn’t such a good idea. Whatever it is, something about this moment makes me a little nauseous. Why is it so scary to let emotions come up at all? Do I need to name it always? Fix it? Probably not. I guess letting it out; just this much, is already taking more courage than I’d like to admit.

Anyway, it’s already the 31st of January. Somehow, time did move forward without waiting for my heart to catch up.

Maybe some chapters don’t have an ending at all. Or do they end with spaces for us to fill in – with whatever our heart desires to? Or maybe, for once, just for once, I am tired of filling all those spaces..

I don’t know. All I know is that I’m still here, standing at the edge of something new, pretending I’m not afraid of what’s on the next page.

Or maybe I did accept it, after all.

I hopefully can turn this page when I wake up tomorrow.

I turned a page in my life I didn’t know existed and suddenly, I was standing in a quiet town in the middle of nowhere. The air was thinner with some magic sprinkled; and the waves in the ocean seemed to be dancing on some beats all night long.. I so wanted to flip the page to find out where I was, but also stay on the same — to experience the hypnotic a little longer!!

The sky was full of glitters; similar to the one in my bathtub early that morning and I stared at the sky for more than I can really recall! “How did I even end up here?” – My mind asked countless such questions to the UNIVERSE.. They say, “If you can dream it; you really can make it!” But I hadn’t even dreamt of such a moment ever before; all I wanted was to enjoy the fireworks In the middle of city – surrounded by thousand others I barely knew; singing to music I’ve never heard on this new year’s eve..

So; how did I really drift to this page? The quiet dance of the waves was more comforting than I had ever thought. There was beauty in solitude too? I thought to myself.. The night was quiet and except for the magic I already mentioned, there was no other sign from the Universe.. I passed out sometime closer to midnight; and cannot recall any special dream answering my inquisitive mind..

The wind next morning seemed to have flipped the page, even though I had bookmarked the night carefully between my countless looping thoughts.. I woke up with the strange feeling of having lost something I couldn’t really name; as if the universe had quietly answered my questions and sprinkled all its cosmic powdery like substance before sunrise and left without saying goodbye.

So many of us do leave without saying goodbye, too.

I did want to stay there a little longer, hanging between a page I never finished and a place I was never meant to be there in the first place..

Nonetheless, the sun rose unapologetically carrying all the charm and beauty despite the darkest clouds. A lavender sky stretched as far as my eyes could see and heart could feel; the exact shade of the lavender wine we had sipped the night before. It felt like the sky was mirroring some past memories wrapped in some strange mockery; reminding me that some moments exist only to be remembered, not repeated.

We went out for morning coffee, pretending the world had always been this calm. And, for the first time in ages, I hadn’t felt the rush of doing it all. Strangely, the coffee cup carried this heavy little message, “Good Coffee for Good People.” The Good Coffee sure did its charm of warming our palms, and the rising steam vanishing like quiet prayers, and conversations in my head still hovering somewhere between presence and absence. Everything felt tender, as if the day itself was afraid to speak too loudly and shatter whatever spell the night had cast.

People walked past us, living their ordinary lives, unaware that a small universe had existed just hours ago, somewhere between the ocean and my thoughts.

And yet, the day unfolded like a dream that never quite happened..

I carried the night inside me; the feeling of being exactly where I didn’t plan to be but somehow belonged. I kept replaying the moment I stared at the sky, wondering how I had arrived there at all. Maybe some places are not destinations but reminders. Reminders that magic does exist, just not in ways we can hold onto. It visits, lingers, and leaves before we learn how to ask it to stay.

By evening, reality had fully reclaimed me. The sounds were louder, the colors less bright, the world once again practical and heavy with responsibilities. Yet something in me had shifted; a soft knowing that even if I couldn’t return to that page, I had read it once. And that, somehow, felt enough.

Maybe that’s how life moves: flipping pages when we’re not ready, carrying us forward even when we’re still rereading the last line. Maybe the beauty isn’t in staying, but in being allowed to witness — even briefly — a version of the world that feels like a secret meant just for you.

And somewhere between coffee cups and lavender skies in this small town in Western Australia, I had learned this, “Life’s most meaningful moments are often temporary, unplanned, & perhaps unrepeatable and learning to let them remain beautiful memories, rather than trying to hold onto them, is part of growing.”

01.01.2026
S. in Margaret River