redxpranger

[redxpranger]

5/2/2025 | face, hair & weight update 🙄 🫠

Dear Self,

If ever the weight becomes too much and you find yourself on the edge of giving up, watch this video. Let it remind you of how you looked after the breakdown—tired, yes, but still smiling, still singing, still doing your random silly things. You made it through then, and you’ll make it through again. You’ll be okay.

"When life gives you lemons, blow bubbles. It’s cheaper than therapy." HAHAHAHA

[redxpranger]

4/29/2025 | 📍Davao City

Mt. Apo was breathtaking this morning—far more beautiful than it appears in this video. Its peak was covered in white, almost as if snow had fallen on it. The sight felt almost unreal, especially as I was driving toward it. Moments like this are one of the reasons I love driving around town. ✨

By the middle of this month, I found myself going out more often—even on weekdays. Most of the time, it was just to run errands, but with all the weekly changes in my work schedule and the things that needed to be done at home, I’ve been feeling physically and mentally exhausted.

But by the end of the month, I was reminded again of how certain things just fall into place. I’m talking about the small, quiet moments that somehow make everything feel a little lighter.

There was one moment in particular that really stayed with me. I was driving when I noticed a man in the passenger seat of a truck beside me. He kept signaling with his hands—letting me know when they were switching lanes or when there was a pedestrian crossing, motioning for me to slow down. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But later, I realized maybe their brake lights or turn signals weren’t working, and he was stepping in to guide others. If that was the case, I’m genuinely grateful. That simple act—even from a stranger—reminded me that kindness still exists in the smallest, most unexpected ways.

Lately, I’ve found myself soft and emotional, even over the little things. And that moment made me cry quietly as I drove carefully back home. It was, without a doubt, my favorite moment this month.

Another moment that brought me to tears was the overwhelming support I’ve received from my relatives. I finally opened up to them about my brother—and how much I’ve been struggling to figure out the best way to help him. Lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe getting him out of the house, even for a little while, could offer him some relief. That’s why we’ve been spending more time with family recently. Their support has meant more to me than I could ever fully express.

Aside from that, this month revealed so much and made me reflect deeply on my thoughts about forgiveness—like why it’s so much harder to forgive myself than to forgive others. How some people can take advantage of that forgiveness. It reminded me that boundaries matter, even when your heart wants to stay open. And honestly, how some people just suck... because I still don’t know where to put all this anger I’m carrying. 🖕🏻🫠

Still, despite it all, there were so many good things—moments shaped by kindness and people who chose to show up with love. Only God knows how thankful I am for every single one of them.

Here’s to growing up. Here’s to holding boundaries without hardening the heart.

Here’s to choosing softness—again and again—even while carrying a weight no one else can see.

[redxpranger]

April 2025.

This month has been somewhere between the good and the bad, between the ache to bloom and the desire to break.

A lot of frustration with people, with things I can't change.

A lot of confusion, questions that tangle themselves inside my chest.

Some days, I wanted to be different—softer, stronger, less angry, less tired.

Some days, I just wanted to be a bitch and stop caring altogether.

And still, somehow, I kept trying to hold on. To hope. To kindness. Even when my hands felt too tired.

I don’t know anymore.

I don’t even want to know.

And maybe—just maybe—that’s okay.

Lately, I’ve been falling asleep to the songs in my "Lullabies" playlist. Normally, I leave my favorite animated series playing softly on the television—its familiar voices and colors lulling me to sleep. But when even that doesn’t work, it’s the playlist that saves me.

"Margaret" by Lana Del Rey.
It’s a love song, yes—but it’s not the romance that holds me.
It’s this one small part, the way it feels like someone pressing a hand to my back, telling me to keep breathing:

so if you don't know, don't give up.
'cause you never know what the new day might bring.
maybe tomorrow, you'll know.

I think about how many times songs have saved me—softly, without asking, offering solace in the stillness.

How many nights they’ve stayed with me like old friends, their quiet presence filling the empty spaces, giving everything while asking for nothing.

And tonight is no different.
Here I am, sitting in my room, the walls silent around me, laughing a little, smiling even through the ache, thinking:

"how surprisingly beautiful life still is."

And if I ever find myself here again—
caught between giving up and holding on—
I hope I remember this:
How the darkness always feels endless until it doesn’t.
How the light always comes back, even if it takes longer than I want.
How even broken things can still glow in the dark.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll know.
Maybe tomorrow will be lighter.
Maybe not.
But either way—I'll still be here, still finding beauty where I can. 😴

[redxpranger]

Spent the day with the fam. Discovered my true calling: definitely not bowling. 😬

Quick story tho… There was this Korean old lady who rented multiple lanes. I figured she had to be a pro. She even changed outfits just to play — full jersey with the Korea and Philippine flags on it. And yep, she was the only one playing on all the lanes she rented. Literally just battling herself. My brother and I were cracking up, saying as if she was out there fighting her inner demons. Hahaha! I started lowkey observing her moves because, honestly, I had zero idea how to bowl.

The worst part? I suck at walking. I have this thing where I randomly forget how to walk, so I’d lose my balance out of nowhere. So yeah… I couldn’t even pull off that forward walk before releasing the ball.

Makes sense though — the whole momentum thing probably helps you throw with more power.

Anyway, it was super fun. Would totally do it again someday. 😂

[redxpranger]

📍Home | 4/26/2025

Grey and Rainy Saturday 🌧️🎤

[redxpranger]

April 20, 2025

I’ll never be ashamed of choosing, again and again, to romanticize everything I see. Of painting the world with the blood in my veins. Of turning pain into color, silence into flowers, heartbreak into something that burns and blooms. To romanticize is not to lie—it is to survive. The world tears me open, and still, I choose to make something beautiful with what spills out.

[redxpranger]

We got a call the day before from our lola, inviting us to spend the weekend at Tita Mae’s house in Puntalinao—almost a three-hour drive from home. After clocking out from work at 12 PM, my brother and I packed up and left right away.

Tita’s house is near the beach, which made the long drive something to look forward to. But before heading there, we went to Mati for some pizza and coffee. It’s a coastal town, like a quieter version of Siargao, with gentler waves and a peaceful vibe. By the time we arrived, our relatives were already there—they had left Davao earlier than we did.

Honestly, I wasn’t feeling well. But I still went. More than that, I needed to be there—for my brother. He’s been going through a tough time lately, both physically and mentally. The kind of heaviness that drains motivation—even for the simplest things like taking a bath. I almost turned down Lola’s invitation, but then I saw his face—how it lit up at the idea of going, like he was catching a glimpse of hope again. And I didn’t want to take that away from him.

In the end, the weekend turned out to be just what we both needed. Even though I spent most of it asleep, it was still beautiful.

One thing I really enjoyed was driving. I discovered something new about myself: I love watching how leaves gently float through the air after a car passes by. Especially the brown or pink ones. It’s now one of my favorite little things in life—subtle, simple, and cute. Each time it happens, I can’t stop myself from smiling. ☺️

We stayed for two days and drove back to Davao on Monday morning. My work schedule changed again this week—back to the midnight to 8:30 AM shift. It’s only the start of the week, and I’m already looking forward to hibernating like a bear this weekend.

Oh—and the coffee beans I ordered online arrived yesterday afternoon. Perfect timing. Now, at least, I have a reason to wake up and show up for work, even when I’m this exhausted.

Anyway, here’s a quick look into the weekend—from my perspective, at least during the parts I was awake. Also, I discovered a new song while I was there—it’s now my favorite track. 😬

📍Puntalinao & Mati

[redxpranger]

how’s that house that raised you?

[redxpranger]

April 15, 2025

Most of the time, I look at my photos and feel like I’m staring at someone I used to know. The features are mine, but the feeling isn’t. It’s strange how, as the years go by, my own face feels less like a reflection and more like a question. One I don’t know how to answer.

Was this ever truly me? Or just a version I wore for a while?

There’s a quiet kind of heartbreak in not recognizing yourself. Maybe I’ve been too many people for too long—each one layered over the last until I forgot what was underneath.

And now?

What’s left is this stillness. A silence I can’t quite name.

It echoes in the background, like a memory that won’t fully fade—but won’t fully return, either.

Sometimes, when I look into my own eyes, I don’t see home.

I see a stranger.

A face I can no longer bring myself to call my own.

[redxpranger]

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been making my coffee with a Moka Pot. Each day, I freshly grind my beans using a manual coffee grinder. Right now, I’m using Henry and Sons’ Caramel Hazelnut Roasted Coffee—a medium roast that’s smooth, mildly sweet, and not too bitter. And honestly, the aroma is incredible—it smells so good! 🥹❤️ I’m excited to try beans from different roasters and experiment a bit to figure out what I really like and what doesn’t quite work for me. 🫡

[redxpranger]

April 12, 2025

Finally got the chance to go out this weekend. I was spontaneous today and just went wherever came to mind in the moment. I left home right after clocking out of work at 10 a.m. I think I should do this more often. 🤔 Roadtriiiip! 🚙

[redxpranger]

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth

I finally finished Orb this weekend, and just as I expected, it left me in tears—breathless and full of wonder. It has undeniably earned a place in my top five anime, right alongside Violet Evergarden. Though vastly different in theme and tone, both hold equal weight in my heart.

I find myself both overflowing with thoughts and yet left speechless. As the final credits rolled, I gave a quiet salute—my way of honoring the brilliance of what I had just experienced. Like many others, I believe Orb fully embodies the essence of what “peak anime” should be: beautiful, intelligent, and profoundly human. It’s the kind of work that lingers, that carves a space within you. I’ve been riding waves of both sadness and gratitude—sad that it’s over, but grateful that I got to witness it at all.

I first stumbled upon Orb through a random Facebook post by an old friend and former bandmate. They praised the anime and mentioned astrology, which piqued my interest. But after finishing it, I realized Orb is so much more—it reaches far beyond astrology into something truly extraordinary.

Lately, I’ve been doing things that my younger self once dreamed of. It feels like a quiet form of self-love—a way of honoring the person I once was. In doing so, I’ve also come to realize that many of the dreams I had as a child still live within me. This anime rekindled my fascination with astrology, something that has intrigued me since I was little. And though I’ve only scratched the surface, I’m learning—and that alone makes my inner child proud.

How I Watched Orb: A Personal Journey

The story unfolds in four parts, each centered on a different main character, and about 70% of the narrative focuses on proving heliocentrism. One of the show’s strengths lies in how it incorporates historical and scientific facts—particularly the astronomical models of geocentrism and heliocentrism. Watching while doing side research became an immersive experience. The story references prominent thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, Heraclides Ponticus, Philolaus, Ptolemy, and the trailblazing Aristarchus.

Each name mentioned felt like a doorway. I looked up their contributions to better grasp the world Orb was building. Plato and Aristotle advocated the geocentric model, where Earth was the immovable center of the universe. Heraclides proposed that Earth rotates on its axis daily. Philolaus believed in a "Central Fire" rather than the Earth or Sun. Ptolemy refined geocentrism, explaining retrograde motion, and Aristarchus proposed a revolutionary model: the Sun at the center, Earth orbiting it and rotating on its axis—an early glimpse of heliocentrism.

Another thing I noticed about the anime is how, even as the main characters change throughout the episodes, one thing remains constant: the wooden Orion’s Belt necklace. It was first passed down to Rafal by a man named Hubert—the same man who introduced him to heliocentrism. This necklace caught my attention from the very beginning, and I kept wondering why the author gave it such significance.

I’ll admit, I spent a good part of the series trying to figure out whether the necklace had a direct connection to heliocentrism. I know Orion’s Belt, in an astronomical sense, doesn’t hold any direct relationship to the heliocentric model. So why highlight it?

Then I realized—maybe I was trying too hard to assign a literal, scientific meaning to something that was meant to be symbolic. Perhaps it’s not about what Orion’s Belt represents in astronomy, but what it represents emotionally to the characters. After all, it’s passed from Rafal to the second protagonist, and even the antagonist, Nowak, comes to see it as a symbol of heresy—of heliocentrism itself. In the story’s setting, just possessing that necklace marks someone as a believer in a dangerous, forbidden truth.

So maybe the necklace isn’t meant to be scientifically significant. Maybe it’s a quiet emblem of resistance, belief, and continuity—its meaning not in the stars it represents, but in the hands that carry it forward.

Now that I’ve mentioned Orion’s Belt, I did a little more research about it. Orion’s Belt consists of three bright stars that form a linear pattern in the night sky, and it’s something I’ve always dreamed of finding when I go stargazing in the mountains. It’s named “Orion’s Belt” because it represents the belt of the Orion constellation. I also discovered that Orion’s Belt is what’s known as an asterism—which means it’s not a standalone constellation, but rather a distinctive pattern within a larger constellation.

What’s fascinating is the practical importance of Orion’s Belt. Not only is it a key feature in the sky, but it also helps stargazers locate other constellations, as well as some of the most awe-inspiring nebulae like the Orion Nebula, Flame Nebula, and Horsehead Nebula.

One of the most exhilarating moments in Orb was the use of Galileo’s telescopic observation of Venus to prove heliocentrism. I screamed with joy when it happened—seeing Venus go through phases like the Moon was a brilliant, historically accurate touch. In the geocentric model, Venus would always appear crescent-shaped. But Galileo’s discovery—that Venus shows a full range of phases—was undeniable proof that the Earth orbits the Sun.

How fascinating was that? Haha! I realized that when you pay close attention to the details—especially in a film grounded in facts or history—you begin to appreciate it on a much deeper level. The experience becomes more intimate, almost personal, as you find yourself fully immersed in the story.

The Characters: Humanity, Faith, and Conviction

What I love most about Orb is how human the characters feel. Their beliefs are not just academic—they’re emotional, spiritual, and deeply personal. While the show explores cosmology, it also examines belief, conviction, and the courage to defy dogma. While I’d love to dive into each character’s arc in detail, that would make this entry much longer than I intend. Instead, I want to share a few key conversations that left a lasting impact on me, one from each main character.

The first one comes from Rafal, the protagonist of the opening episodes. In the second episode, he has a conversation with Hubert, the man who introduces him to heliocentrism. Here’s how it goes:

Rafal: "Why would you put yourself in danger and give up your place in heaven just for this? Do you want to deny the existence of God?" Hubert: "It’s the exact opposite. I do it because I believe in God. Most people believe this world is an ugly place, filled with greed and corruption, while the afterlife is pure and beautiful. But I can’t accept that. This world created by God is surely the most beautiful of all. A person doesn’t need faith, money, or status to know that. I will show that even trapped in this tiny skull, my intellect is all I need to understand God’s works. That’s why I don’t read holy scripture. I read nature." Rafal: "But doesn’t a life like that frighten you?" Hubert: "It does. Even so, a life that isn’t frightening is missing its essence."

In the world of Orb, questioning the Church is dangerous. To pursue knowledge is to risk being labeled a heretic. But Hubert’s faith in the beauty of the world, and in God’s creation as something to be understood, is what drives him.

Then there’s Oczy, the second protagonist—my favorite part of the story. One of the scenes that really stayed with me was when Oczy asked Jolenta what it feels like to be able to read and write. She responded, “Reading and writing feels like a miracle,” then quickly apologized, clarifying that it’s not like the miracles Jesus performed. What she meant was the quiet, human miracle of accessing the past—of knowing old news, gossip, and thoughts left behind. She added that reading and writing help you forget the present, allowing you to time-travel in your mind. And that, to her, was miraculous.

That moment inspired Oczy, who belonged to the lowest social class, to learn how to read and write—despite it being strictly forbidden for someone like him. In this world, literacy was a privilege reserved for the elite. Badeni, a brilliant monk and Oczy’s mentor, explained that reading and writing were sacred skills, and not everyone should possess them. He argued that leaving behind words carries a heavy responsibility—it demands a certain level of natural talent and a minimum education, which he believed Oczy lacked. Badeni also feared that if everyone could write freely, the world would be flooded with unreliable information.

But Oczy didn’t listen. He learned anyway. And ironically, in the end, his diary—the simple, heartfelt documentation of their journey to prove heliocentrism—was the only book that survived. Badeni had written more technical works on the subject, but he was forced to burn all of them when inquisitors began suspecting their research.

Then came one of the most mind-blowing moments in the entire series.

To preserve Oczy’s diary, Badeni devised a plan. He used the beggars in town—people whom Oczy had always shared his bread with. That bread, which came from Badeni as part of Oczy’s daily ration for assisting in research, became a key part of the plan. So, in exchange for more bread, Badeni asked the beggars to let him shave their heads. Then, he did something unbelievable—he tattooed Oczy’s diary onto their scalps. Sixty beggars, sixty shaved heads, sixty “pages.” He called them “books” and referred to each by their page number. He even told them to wear hats until their hair grew back. They were also instructed to seek out Father Grabowski, Badeni’s trusted friend, if a month went by without contact or bread.

And that’s how Oczy’s story survived, even after both he and Badeni were executed for seeking the truth.

Draka, the third protagonist, takes us beyond astronomy. Her arc is about spreading knowledge—copying and distributing Oczy’s book. In one of my favorite exchanges, Jolenta warns her:

Jolenta: Conviction can become a curse. Draka: But if we forget our convictions, we can only wander. Jolenta: Keep wandering. Surely, morality is something you find when you’re lost.

Then there’s the final character: Albert Brudzewski—an actual historical figure, teacher to Copernicus himself. In a quiet, moving confessional scene, a priest tells him:

“God will accept us. And God will always offer us refuge. But for that to happen, we must overcome ourselves and face God with sincerity. In addition, we must question in solitude whether we are worthy of God's acceptance.”

Final Thoughts

Honestly, there’s so much more I want to say, but for now, I’ll leave it at this. Orb: On the Movements of the Earth is more than just a tale of astronomy. It’s a story about the courage to believe, the conviction to stand firm, and the relentless pursuit of truth—even when it means risking everything.

Watching it has led me to reflect deeply on the value of differing beliefs. Even when those convictions oppose one another, there is beauty in their contrast. One perspective reveals what the other cannot, and perhaps this is where true growth, discovery, and progress are born.

In the end, it’s not just the science that resonates, but the humanity—the unyielding pursuit of truth, no matter the cost. It’s what leaves me in awe. And like the final character’s parting words, “Thaumazein”—to wonder, to be amazed—it captures the essence of this journey: that discovery itself is a kind of miracle, where the pursuit of truth opens our eyes to the beauty of the world, even in its most challenging moments. 🫡

[redxpranger]

4/6/2025

Let It Shape You ✨

Solitude can be painful — especially when you’re young and yearning for connection. But that ache isn’t meaningless. It has a purpose.

Let your suffering shape something beautiful. Like a song born from sorrow, allow your loneliness to become art, insight, or a well of emotional depth.

Embrace the ache, even when it stings. Let it sculpt something luminous within you.

Don’t resist the hard feelings — transform them. There is wisdom in your wounds, strength in your stillness, and beauty in learning how to sit quietly with your own soul.

This is not a call to fix the weight you carry, but an invitation to hold it differently — to honor it as part of your becoming.

Solitude may feel like a void, but sometimes, it’s simply space — sacred space where your truest self can breathe, speak, and create.

And pain, when we stop numbing or fleeing from it, becomes a kind of guide. As Rilke believed, what hurts us also has the power to deepen us.

----------

*But damn… everything just fucking hurts. And I don’t even know where it all comes from. Or maybe I do. Maybe it’s everything I’ve spent years trying to avoid, bury, or outrun finally catching up to me. Decades of resistance — all crashing in at once. And now, the air feels thick. It reeks of mistakes, disappointment, and anger — and the scent spells my name. Still… like it always does, it’ll pass. *screams internally* 😫☹️

[redxpranger]

March 30, 2025 🌳☁️🚙

Apart from driving along the coast, driving along Ulas Bypass Road is one of my favorite scenic routes. Every time I drive on this road, I feel so small—but in a good way. The towering trees stretch high above, their canopies full and lush, almost cloud-like in their perfect shade of green.

Anyway, the clouds looked especially lovely today. I wanted to capture a better video to show just how breathtaking they were, but I got so mesmerized that I completely forgot. Some moments are just meant to be experienced, I guess. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[redxpranger]

March 30, 2025

The last week of March is finally here. Last week felt like a mess—probably because of all the media I’ve been consuming. My brother and I spent the previous week watching Netflix’s new limited series, Adolescence, and right after that, we dove into Mindhunter.

Speaking of Adolescence, I absolutely loved how each episode was shot in a single take. My favorite was the third episode, which centered on a conversation between Jamie Miller and Briony Ariston. It focused on Jamie’s psychological perspective after being arrested for murdering a schoolmate.

What really drew me into this episode was the moment when Briony explained to Jamie that she wasn’t there to judge him—she genuinely wanted to understand his perspective and how he made sense of everything. That scene was so compelling because it wasn’t about right or wrong; it was about uncovering the layers of his thoughts, the way he processed his actions, and what ultimately shaped his decisions. This included how Jamie perceived and understood his relationship with his parents, especially his father. It made the conversation feel raw and unsettling yet deeply intriguing.

Lately, I’ve been doing a bit of psychoanalysis on myself. I’ve been diving into Carl Jung’s psychology, particularly the concept of individuation. Between watching these series and learning about Jung’s theories, I’ve realized how much of who we are is shaped by our past—especially childhood. It forms the foundation of everything. This past month has been difficult as I’ve started recalling childhood memories that I must have pushed into my unconscious—not because they were insignificant, but because they were painful or made me question myself. According to Jung, even memories we don’t consciously remember can still influence our personality. I haven’t fully processed everything yet, but I’m trying to understand it all. Maybe once I’m ready, I’ll write about it.

On a different note, I finally got a decent night’s sleep. I woke up around midnight with no plans for the weekend, so I just let myself do whatever I felt like. I took a bath, ate dinner while watching the last episode of Solo Leveling Season 2, and caught up on the latest episode of Abbott Elementary—a must-watch for any sitcom lover.

After that, I cleaned my room and set up my desk so I could connect my laptop to my monitor. I made coffee and updated my expense spreadsheets, which I track meticulously. Fun fact: I record every purchase I make, including grocery item prices, and update them monthly to check for price changes. It helps me prepare for the following year’s expenses. My goal is always to finalize my financial plans by the third quarter so I can decide whether to make big purchases or take trips without throwing my budget off balance. Of course, I also set aside money for unexpected expenses—because they always happen.

Once I was done with my spreadsheet, I went back to watching Orb: On the Movements of the Earth, an anime about astronomy. The story takes place during the era when people believed in geocentrism—the idea that the Earth is the center of the universe. The series follows scholars who, despite facing persecution, dare to explore heliocentrism—the theory that the Sun is actually at the center.

I’m only on episode six, but what I find fascinating is how many people contributed to this theory. Even when they faced death, they found ways to preserve their findings, hiding their research in a box in the forest with the hope that future generations would continue their work.

I remember mentioning this series to my brother, and he tried watching it but found it boring. I get it—it’s not for everyone. But for me, it’s captivating, especially because I’ve started actively engaging with what I watch. Whenever the anime introduces a concept, like geocentrism, I pause, research it, and write down my notes. That’s how I learned about Aristotle and Plato’s role in developing the theory and how Claudius Ptolemy later refined it to explain planetary motion. Ptolemy was even mentioned in the anime, which made me want to dive deeper into his work.

His model, now known as the Ptolemaic system, suggested that planets move in small circular paths (epicycles) while simultaneously orbiting Earth on larger circular paths (deferents). This model explained retrograde motion—when planets appear to move backward—by showing that it was just an illusion caused by Earth’s faster orbit. Learning about this has been fascinating, and I love how this anime is pushing me to explore astronomy in a deeper way.

I found a video that animates the retrograde motion as described by Ptolemy, and it’s absolutely fascinating. Seeing it visualized makes the concept even more intriguing.

I suppose this is just another one of my “geek phases.” A couple of years ago, I was obsessed with Avatar: The Last Airbender and watched The Legend of Korra right after. Now, it’s astronomy. I’m excited to learn more as I continue watching Orb: On the Movements of the Earth.

To wrap up this entry (or whatever you’d call this), I wanted to include a short video of my week, featuring what I did today. I managed to capture a few birds hanging around our house—Philippine pied fantails, yellow-vented bulbuls, and Maya birds. Ever since my bird-watching experience at Malagos Garden, I’ve been able to identify these local birds and appreciate them more. I’d love to get a good pair of binoculars to see them up close, but the ones with great specs are expensive. 🥲

Aside from that, we took Bojji and Kotaro to the vet for their anti-rabies shots yesterday. Also, I almost burned the house down again—I forgot I was cooking rice. That makes it the third time, and somehow, I always end up lucky. The worst incident was when I was around six years old. That time, the fire actually blackened the wall in our dirty kitchen where the stove was. At 5 AM today, I washed my car just to be productive. Later, at 9:30 AM, I went grocery shopping—mostly to restock essentials, especially my brother’s milk. As a small reward for myself, I bought an ice cream and enjoyed it in the car. And now, I’m about to cook lunch. Yay!

[redxpranger]

March 29, 2025

On Thursday, I finally received the two books I had ordered online. I had planned to start one over the weekend, but a quiet voice inside me urged me to begin reading right away.

The books I chose were Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke and Aphorisms on Love and Hate by Friedrich Nietzsche. Each was a deliberate choice, but today, I want to focus on Rilke—on how this book became something extraordinary for me.

It was in early March when I first came across a video of Andrew Garfield in an interview. He was asked what books he would recommend, and his first answer was Letters to a Young Poet. I don’t know why, out of all the books he mentioned, that particular title lingered in my mind. I had only watched the interview once, and he had only spoken the book’s name for a few seconds—yet it stayed with me.

A few weeks later, I stumbled upon a blog post that quoted an excerpt from the book. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes, if you pay close attention, you start to notice the little hints the universe leaves behind—small, quiet nudges appearing more than once, like a door waiting to be opened. A whisper from God, or fate, guiding you toward something you need. A path leading you to answers, to comfort, especially when you're desperate for salvation, on the verge of losing hope. A reminder that you are not forgotten. That you are exactly where you need to be.

This book, which I read in less than 24 hours, became my greatest salvation. It is now, without question, my favorite book. From the first letter to the last, every word was deeply thoughtful, beautifully articulated. Reading it felt like having a conversation with a friend—one who knows precisely what to say. A friend who arrives at the perfect moment, when you need them most.

There were so many moments where I wanted to highlight every sentence, because every page held something profound.

More than anything, this book reminded me that I am, in fact, on the right path. Lately, I’ve distanced myself from people again. I haven't been meeting up with friends, barely replying to messages. But yesterday, I finally started responding, and it felt good to be reminded that someone out there still cares, still wonders if I’m doing okay. There’s something about receiving a message from a friend saying they miss you—it feels like being gently pulled back into the world. I may not have many people in my life, but the ones I do have love me genuinely. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.

Anyway, I want to share my favorite part of the book—the letter from August 12, 1904:

"I want to talk to you again for a while, dear Mr. Kappus, although I can say almost nothing that is of any help, hardly anything useful. You have had many great sadnesses which have now passed by. And you say that their passing was also hard and upsetting for you. But I ask you to consider whether these great unhappinesses did not rather pass through you. Whether much within you has not changed, whether somewhere, in some part of your being, you were not transformed while you were unhappy? The only sorrows which are harmful and bad are those one takes among people in order to drown them out. Like diseases which are treated superficially and inexpertly, they only abate, and after a short pause break out again with more terrible force, and accumulate inside and are life, unlived, rejected, lost life - from which we can die. If it were possible for us to see further than our knowledge reaches, and a little beyond the outworks of our intuitions, perhaps we should then bear our sadnesses with greater assurance than our joys. For they are the moments when something new enters into us, something unknown to us; our feelings, shy and inhibited, fall silent, everything in us withdraws, a stillness settles on us, and at the centre of it is the new presence that nobody yet knows, making no sound. I believe that almost all our sadnesses are periods of tautening that we experience as numbness because we can no longer hear the stirring of our feelings, which have become foreign to us. Because we are alone with the strange thing that has entered into us; because everything familiar and accustomed is taken away from us for a moment; because we are in the middle of a transition where we cannot stand still. And that is why sadness passes: what is new in us, the thing that has supervened, has entered into our heart, penetrated to its innermost chamber and not lingered even there - it is already in our blood. And we never quite know what it was. One might easily suppose that nothing had happened, but we have altered the way a house alters when a guest enters it. We cannot say who has come, perhaps we shall never know, but there are many indications that it is the future that enters into us like this, in order to be transformed within us, long before it actually occurs. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the apparently uneventful and static moment when our future comes upon us is so much closer to life than that other noisy and accidental point when it happens to us as if from the outside. The quieter, the more patient and open we are in our sadness, the deeper and more unerringly the new will penetrate into us, the better we shall acquire it, the more it will be our fate, and when one day in the future it 'takes place' (that is, steps out of us towards others) we shall feel related and close to it in our inmost hearts. And that is necessary. It is necessary - and little by little our development will tend in this direction - that nothing alien should happen to us, but only what has long been part of us."

I read this passage while working, and when I reached this part, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Not because I was sad, but because these were the exact words I didn’t realize I needed. It wasn’t sorrow that brought me to tears—it was comfort.

Some might see them as just words, but to me, they felt like an embrace—a quiet, steady reassurance filled with warmth, hope, and love.

Rilke suggests that sadness does not simply fade away; rather, it passes through us, leaving us changed. Instead of resisting sorrow or numbing it with distractions, he urges us to sit with it—to listen. Because sadness is not merely an absence of joy; it is a sign that something new is taking shape within us.

I love how he compares sorrow to an unknown guest entering a house. It reminded me of something I wrote last month—about Grief and Sorrow visiting me unexpectedly, and how I finally chose to let them in, to sit with them on the balcony. I remember crying that night, allowing myself to feel everything, letting it all pass through me.

Rilke reminded me that if we stop resisting our sorrow, if we embrace it with patience, it will transform us in ways we may not yet understand. Everything we experience is already becoming a part of who we are.

Last night, a thought struck me: my refusal to let go of pain, grief, and sorrow—perhaps it’s not a weakness, but a choice. Some may not understand, but to me, these emotions are important. They have shaped me. They continue to shape me. They are the reason I see the world the way I do, the reason I have learned about love, hope, and what it means to be human.

I no longer see sorrow, pain, and grief as burdens to escape from. I'm learning to love them just as I love joy, hope, and love itself. Not in a way that romanticizes suffering, but in a way that accepts it as part of life. As part of me.

After all, to truly love yourself—to truly love anyone—you must embrace both the light and the darkness. Without conditions. Without exceptions.

And so, with happy tears in my eyes and both hope and pain in my heart, I raise a quiet toast—

To growing up, and to all the lessons I have learned along the way. 🥂

[redxpranger]

"If you hold close to nature, to what is simple in it, to the small things people hardly see and which all of a sudden can become great and immeasurable; if you have this love for what is slight, and quite unassumingly, as a servant, seek to win the confidence of what seems poor - then everything will grow easier, more unified and somehow more conciliatory, not perhaps in the intellect, which, amazed, remains a step behind, but in your deepest consciousness, watchfulness and knowledge. You are so young, all still lies ahead of you, and I should like to ask you, as best I can, dear Sir, to be patient towards all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like books written in a foreign tongue. Do not now strive to uncover answers: they cannot be given you because you have not been able to live them. And what matters is to live everything. Live the questions for now.

Perhaps then you will gradually, without noticing it, live your way into the answer, one distant day in the future." 👀📖

- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet