Day that needs to solve ::

 

Dear Diary,

Today was strange. A mix of interesting moments, little risks, boring stretches, and a kind of stress that lingered quietly in the background. It wasn’t the kind of stress that makes you panic — more like a low, constant hum in the mind that doesn’t let you rest completely.

The morning started unusually early — 4 AM. My brother and I decided to go for a walk to the nearest temple. The streets were silent, the air still cool from the night. I’ve always liked mornings like this; they feel like the world hasn’t woken up yet. We spent around half an hour there, talking about everything — how life is going, how she betrayed us, and how we can stop ourselves from falling too deep into sadness or depression. My brother spoke slowly, almost like he was choosing his words carefully. I listened, sometimes nodding, sometimes staring into the temple lights. In the background, my Spotify playlist played softly, as if it was the soundtrack to this quiet moment.

We came home around 5 AM, and both of us collapsed into sleep again without even saying much. When I woke up — around 7 or 8 — the world felt warmer, louder, and a little heavier. I brushed my teeth, had a quick bite, and jumped straight into editing. It was one of those editing sessions where I didn’t even realize how much time passed. I finished the work, posted it, and then, almost without thinking, started scrolling endlessly.

By evening, I took my phone and went up to the roof. There’s something freeing about being up there alone — the open sky, the feeling of distance from everyone else. I browsed DuckDuckGo for privacy, then played some chess. Actually, I’d played earlier in the day too, trying to learn the London Opening. It seemed interesting at the time, but I forgot most of it almost immediately. I guess that’s how some things are — they come fast, they leave fast.

Later, I found a one-hour Termux lecture on YouTube. I watched it at 1.5x speed, skipping the parts that didn’t matter much. As I watched, the sky above me slowly turned darker, that beautiful deep blue right before night. I headed back inside.

Downstairs, I found mom, uncle, aunty, and grandmother talking about me — saying I’m not studying and just playing Free Fire. I walked in, and they asked me directly if I play it. I said no — a half-truth, because I had played earlier, just for a short while. I went back to my room, ignored them, and played more chess. Won some games, lost some, but I didn’t really care about the results; it was more about distracting my mind.

Meanwhile, Termux had finished installing, so I went downstairs to set it up. Papa came into the room, and I called mom from the lower room to join us. We started talking again about whether I play Free Fire. I denied it and handed my phone to her, fully confident she wouldn’t find anything — and she didn’t.

While we were eating dinner, my sister came in and suddenly said, “I didn’t say that he plays Free Fire.” Mom got annoyed and replied, “You’re not even bringing him to the beach, so don’t say anything.” My sister and I haven’t been on good terms for a while now, so her words hit differently. That familiar spark of anger flared up in me again, and I decided not to argue.

I came upstairs, sat in my room, and started writing this. Before typing it here, I had already written it in my physical diary earlier — part of this new habit I’m trying to build. I’m not sure where it will lead, but maybe one day I’ll look back and see how far I’ve come. Or maybe I’ll just smile at how much detail I kept about my ordinary days. Either way, I’m glad I’m writing.

Good luck, future me.