
Honestly, I’m sitting here with no idea what to write—just letting my brain and fingers do their thing. I can’t lie, I’m frustrated with myself for not writing more. Deep down, I know that I need to write more to keep my skills sharp. My mom always reminds me:
“You have to write. If not, you will slowly lose your skill.”
And she’s absolutely right. Every skill fades when we don’t use it enough.
To those of you who’ve been here since the beginning, thank you. This blog started out as a travel diary, a place to share where I’d been and what I’d seen. Over time, it’s become something else entirely—a space for my thoughts, healing, and quiet self-reflection.
Maybe that’s boring to some.
Maybe helpful to others.
But knowing that even one person still checks in means everything. It’s reassuring to know that someone, somewhere, cares.
And lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on time—how much of it I’ve wasted… or at least felt like I’ve wasted. Just yesterday, driving home from work, I caught myself thinking about the lockdown. How I could have used that time better. Maybe I could’ve created more, built something, or become someone “more.”
Maybe I could’ve grown into a content creator or influencer or something along those lines.
But then, as I sat down to write, something clicked: I don’t actually want to put my private life on display. I never did.
I’ve never craved fame. I don’t want to be recognized wherever I go. And if I’m being honest, my mental health was at its absolute worst during the pandemic. I wasn’t proud of many of the things I did back then. I was still trying to recover from a relationship in 2019 that tore me apart in ways I didn’t even know were possible.
But looking back now… maybe that time wasn’t wasted. Maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what I needed—a pause, a long exhale, a period of stillness to start stitching myself back together.
That being said, here I am in 2024, still struggling with procrastination. I keep putting things off. I haven’t edited my poetry in over two months. The motivation just isn’t there. And, if I’m being honest with myself, I think a big part of that has to do with how much of my time and energy now goes into my new relationship.
I spend most of my days with my boyfriend. It’s beautiful, and I deeply cherish the attention I receive from him. But it’s also made it harder to focus on anything else. When I was single, I had so much time to myself—time to write, to reflect, to create. Now, everything feels a little more complicated.
Still, I know I need to finish what I’ve started.
I know I need to manage my time better.
So far, 2024 has been quiet. I haven’t gone anywhere. I’ve been adjusting to a new workplace and trying to stay on top of my finances. A few weeks ago, I hit a low point—just exhausted by the monotony of my routine, desperate for something new. I felt this deep, aching need to break free, to shake things up, to feel alive again.
I was craving change.
Craving movement.
Craving life.
Does anyone else feel that way?
I hate routines. I wish my days felt more dynamic—filled with fresh experiences, new sights, things to learn, and things to be inspired by. I get bored easily. I crave excitement, energy, and discovery. Even something as simple as a random trip to IKEA can feel like an adventure to me.
The point is I need to go somewhere. I need to do something. Because while I do love being home, I also hate feeling stuck in the same cycle over and over again. I need moments that recharge me. I need space to breathe, places to explore, and little sparks of joy.
That’s what makes me happy.
That’s how I refill my cup.
So maybe this post isn’t perfect. Maybe it’s a little messy, a little unfiltered. But it’s real. It’s honest. And sometimes, that’s all we really have to offer.
Thanks for being here.
X, Auri.
Coffee helps me write. Support helps me shine. 🥰
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