10/28/25
It's been a little over a year now since I launched khaalida.moe. In that time, I've become the first member of my immediate family to earn a college degree, even if it happened a few years later than it should've. Made some new friends, lost touch with others. For the past few months, I've been stuck in a limbo. Can't quit my part-time job because the market's been shit, can't find a full-time job because the market's been shit. At least I was getting job interviews before, but it's been silent for a while now. I know I'm not alone. I've considered some other jobs that had decent chance of success, but they ended up feeling too morally gray or shady in general. Maybe I should stop being afraid. I'm just hoping that eventually I'll find something I don't have to actively worry about.
On the bright side, being exclusively part-time and out of school has left me ample time for more personal works. Been chiseling away at a VN, having some trouble with the vision of certain scenes though. But it'll work out. Lately I've also been watching a lot more movies, and recently, even rewatching while in theaters. I saw One Battle After Another twice. Incredible film. Cathartic, moving, tense. Saw Chainsaw Man Reze Arc twice as well. Debating thrice honestly. I found it to be just. Jaw-dropping. Multiple scenes stole my breath away. Having read the manga years ago, memories became blurred, leading to some newfound surprises. The pool sequence left me in shambles, more so on the second viewing surprisingly enough. Rather than yearning for Reze herself like I might've when younger, I found myself yearning for the idea. The idea of a pure, innocent joy and love shared. For some time now, years really, I've felt like I was broken goods. Shit happens and you make mistakes, some worse than others. Feels like it leaves a permanent stain on the soul. Can't help but feel like it's too late for me to give myself over to a pure happiness like that, not without looking over my shoulder in paranoia for fear the moment being stolen away by my own self just when in reach. It's so hard lowering my guard for new friends, and I find myself unexpectedly raising it for old ones. Who am I really? How many masks do I even wear anymore, and will I ever be able to take them off for someone? I don't know.
But Fujimoto, the bastard he is, did a great job of selling that dream. The dream that it might never be too late. That despite knowing no one around me in their older age like this, one day perhaps I'll get to grow old with another and dote and fawn over one another, continuing to learn and teach one another new things of the world and ourselves. The dream that I'll be able to be honest with myself, and with another. That we'll be able to accept each other for who we are, regardless of what we were.
It's a beautiful dream, isn't it?
i'm terrified of drowning in love
for i never learned how to swim either.