This morning began with a vague but insistent sense of unease. I cannot say for certain what brought it on, but the weight of it lingered as I rose. When such moods descend upon me, I find solace in small, methodical actions. I rubbed my eyes, sat at the edge of the bed, and took a moment to survey my surroundings. The curtains were drawn as they should be; the bed was straightened, though I adjusted the blanket to ensure it was neatly folded. The pillows, too, received their customary attention. These small rituals, though trivial to others, seem to ground me when my thoughts are adrift.
Fridays in our home are always lively, for the children rise early to prepare for school. It is often my wife’s opening of the bedroom door that rouses me—a sound so ordinary yet startling in the quiet hours of the morning. There is something in its sharpness that unsettles me, though I am never sure why. Yet, as is often the case, a cup of coffee soothed my nerves. Though decaffeinated, the ritual of it—the warmth, the aroma—was enough to bring a measure of calm.
The morning offered its small pleasures, as well. I was delighted to discover that the third season of The Legend of Vox Machina had been released. The news brought a quiet excitement, a welcome contrast to the morning’s earlier gloom.
As I sit to write this, I find my thoughts turning toward this space—a domain I have maintained for a decade yet seldom used. At $32 a year, it has remained little more than a blank slate, a quiet reminder of opportunities left unexplored. A conversation with a friend the other day brought this to sharper focus. He remarked, with a touch of regret, that he had little to show for the last fifteen years of his life. The sentiment stayed with me, prompting me to consider how I might make better use of this corner of the internet.
Perhaps a journal. Not a novel idea, that is for certain, but it is a familiar one. It does not have to be an ambitious project, but a simple chronicling of thoughts and actions. An exercise in English, if anything, which I must confess, has become somewhat neglected. Since my immersion into the rhythms of Malay working culture, the need for English has waned, its once-central role diminished to mere utility. Yet, there is a certain charm in its precision and elegance, qualities I fear may dull with disuse. To write here, then, is not merely to record thoughts but to sharpen a skill that ought not be forgotten. I could also use it to explore my love for photography or experiment with video, capturing the fragments of life that might otherwise slip away unnoticed. A modest abstraction, away from the complexities of the day to day, but a distraction that seems worthwhile.
And so I begin here, unsure of where this path might lead. Whether it will amount to anything substantial, I cannot say, but there is comfort in the act of beginning. Perhaps that is reason enough.