اودیسئوس.

The Secret History, December Rain, Wicked Game.

“I talk to myself sometimes. Whenever I am alone. I express my thoughts out loud.” He shifted in his chair, the tension obvious. “This is a characteristic for smart people,” the man replied. The boy paused, rose halfway, then straightened his seat as if preparing for exit. “So you’re telling me,” he said while returning the chair to its exact original angle, “This isn’t another sign that I am actually going insane?” A thin smile. “No. You’re not. But that,” he nodded toward the perfectly aligned chair, “is a problem.” The boy blinked as the man continued. “Why’d you put it back? Why tidy the room before leaving when you know the next person will undo all of it within minutes?”

Do you hear zeus, my child? He has forgiven us. Finally we have rain.

First rain here.

I’ve spent years searching for a mentor in the vein and resembling Julian Morrow; an individual whose intellectual rigor aligns with the ideals I pursue. Then, as now, I remain convinced that a figure of his caliber could refine my trajectory. A Julian to my Henry.

Even if I die today, I will have no pain and regret.

Another highlight of the last month was my presentation for one of my classes. My subject combines some of the topics I am insanely passionate about: Psychology, Greek mythology, and Language origins. And y’all can take a look at it too. It’s an easy quick read and I tried to sum up my paragraphs so that they wouldn’t bore people.

—

I really need to experience an indigo night as well.

As a child, he was considered curious, sometimes even difficult to handle. He questioned everything. Everyone. His first words were always “What,” “Why,” and “How.” Teachers loved him, but his relentless energy and endless questions often left them exhausted. They struggled to give satisfying answers, and he would leave disappointed. He grew into a teenager, but over time, he lost the energy to debate, to ask, to seek. The questions still struck his mind, but they remained trapped in his throat, unasked. Slowly, silence settled over him. Negative thoughts, inner wars, anxiety, and worries consumed his energy, his will, his hope. He cared about fewer and fewer things. The world around him slowly lost its color. Many events, people, and subjects no longer mattered. Even action felt pointless, too many efforts collapsed under the weight of the question he had built in his mind: “So what?” His world continued to fade, becoming grayer with each passing day. Unable to stop the process, sometimes he even felt gray himself.

08. Reading Latin words and medical terminology from my specialised English class, I suddenly felt alive and passionate again for a few minutes.