What Remained

Sometime within the last three days, including today, I found myself noticing something unusual during one of my routine trips to the park.

The entire area smelled like eggs.

At first I couldn't place it. Then I remembered that most of the neighborhood uses gas stoves. Considering the explosions that happened recently, my mind immediately wandered toward the possibility of a gas leak.

I couldn't smell any fires.

Then again, why would I want to?

That would mean getting close enough to the flames to find out.

After finishing my walk, I headed back to my current residence and started working on my Neocities website.

That ended up becoming the highlight of my day.

Since I couldn't find any cursors that matched what I had envisioned, I decided to make my own. But before the dewdrop cursor ever existed, I had already made two instruments for the site: a felted piano and a slide whistle.

I couldn't hide my excitement.

I couldn't contain my joy and needed to share it with someone.

Naturally, I drifted toward Muffy.

She seemed to be having a fabulous time. Showed me some cute pics. Her kids had been a bit harsh toward her while showing off for their cousins, but overall things appeared to be going well.

Then this afternoon I learned she wasn't feeling well at all.

It was strange how quickly the mood shifted.

One moment we were talking about website projects and little victories. The next, she was trying to get through the day while feeling sick  from vomiting and cramping

I also found myself feeling a little awkward and out of place.

Maybe it was because I didn't feel like I had much of my own life to share.

Or maybe what I did have felt too boring to mention.

I'm not exactly living my best life at the moment, so perhaps it felt like there wasn't much importance in talking about it.

Still, she listened anyway.

The more I worked on the site, the more ideas appeared.

Coding has slowly become one of the few places where my creativity feels unrestricted. Every small improvement seems to create three new possibilities behind it.

While working on the site, I realized something about the way I approach projects.

I don't think like someone who is simply building a website.

I've been trying to build an environment.

A place with its own atmosphere, pacing, and quiet rules.

Most websites focus on features.

I find myself focused on feelings.

How a page moves.

How a cursor behaves.

How a visitor experiences a space without consciously realizing why.

The dewdrop cursor wasn't really about the cursor.

The spores weren't really about the scrollbar.

They were pieces of a larger world.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I've never approached creative projects as displays of content.

I approach them as ecosystems.

I want things to feel alive.

Not loud.

Not flashy.

Alive.

Maybe that's why I spend so much time refining details most people would never notice.

The details are the experience.

And for the first time in a while, it feels like I finally have a place to let those ideas exist.

I also came across a few new ideas for my Neocities website.

Nothing concrete yet.

At the moment, I'm not sure I want to make any grand changes.

The dewdrop cursor, the felted piano, the slide whistle, and the drifting spores already feel like they're moving things in the right direction.

Maybe the site needs more time before I start reshaping it again.

Somewhere in all of that, I was a bit surprised to see a comment from Asto yesterday.

It's been well over a few months since I last heard from him. The last time was around Valentine's Day.

After that, nothing.

I figured he had gone ghost and left our chatting site behind since things had started to feel less than casual.

He was also busy with school, and I knew he'd have better priorities to maintain.

As usual, I didn't step in the way.

I just let things fade.

So seeing his comment caught me off guard.

I guess he was still reading the site.

Honestly, most people don't seem all that interested, so I wasn't expecting it.

It also made me think about the chat area I've been planning to add.

Originally, I tried to make it work on the blog itself, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt there were better ways to go about it.

Neocities seems like the better home for it.

For now, though, it's just another idea sitting on the shelf with the others.

Today doesn't feel quite as great as the last few days did.

Not bad.

Just quieter.

Like the excitement settled down and left me sitting with whatever was left behind.

Other than that, I'm not really sure what to write about next.

Calming to My Soul

Somewhere after all of that, I ended up updating my privacy policy page and turning on Google Analytics.

I just wanted to see what it was and how it works. It seems — well — like I could use it in case I ever add a chat page back to the website. I scrapped that idea a while ago after hearing horror stories of chats being taken down and being outright unenjoyable. I don't like the prospect of wasting my time there. But I can use the knowledge I've gained to see who's around if I ever wanted to say hi. Interesting to say the least.

I also ended up going outside to walk and sweat off some pounds.

I seriously don't wish to end up at my egg donor's weight ever. I'm literally the smallest person in my family under 200 pounds. I shudder at the thought of becoming anywhere near a bathtub just waiting to slip down a few stairs.

It's already bad enough that I look like my mother. I notice that when I eat more, it's like looking at her mirror. The skinnier I am, the less I see of her. It's already bad enough dealing with her — I don't want to see her every time I look into the mirror to brush my teeth.

I also want abs and toned thighs so I can look better in several outfits. That's not going to happen if I end up stress eating or laxing on my routine. Thank goodness I'm still unemployed. I have plenty of time to work out.

Perhaps the only thing I'd need to watch is not taking things too far — such as plastic surgery. But with everything she did throughout the years and what I've learned of my lineage, I'm not exactly certain I'd be happy with small changes alone.

I honestly don't even like my DNA anymore after hearing all of the instances of how it came to be.

I want to throw this whole body away for a new one.

Working out is free. The surgeries would need money and research. Honestly, the thought is calming to my soul. I definitely don't consent to becoming more like her.

Do I stay?

<

It’s been a while since I came back.

Last time I wrote, I realized I didn’t need much more.

I had already found a small kind of peace.

Multiple times.

But it wasn’t joyful.

It was quiet.

Expected.

A place to sit with no thoughts.

Just being…

nothing.

Then that day happened.

Nothing compares to it.

It was full-body joy.

The kind I can only say I’ve felt once.

Something I’ll remember past the year.

Not like those temporary retreats—

where you hide in silence,

cut off from everything.

This was different.

It stayed.

Now I’ve been thinking again.

About my plan.

Retire by 35.

Live freely.

Or…

find something faster.

A different path.

Reincarnation.

I mean… everyone’s heard of it.

In this life,

my joy still feels negotiable.

Like I’ll eventually lose sight of it.

Like I’ll become another tool again.

Another gear.

Moving.

Existing.

Used.

I’m already seen that way.

A burden.

A number.

A mistake.

But that’s not even the real issue.

The problem is internal.

What happens when I lose access to that joy?

What do I value then?

It feels like something worse than death.

Because joy—

isn’t just an emotion.

It’s bigger than that.

I see it now.

In sounds.

In eyes.

In moments.

But it feels temporary.

And I don’t know how long it lasts.

If someone forgets the apple behind the curtain…

who’s going to look for it again?

My mind is finite.

But my joy…

doesn’t feel like it should be.

And that’s where I’m stuck.

A stalemate.

Where is my next thought?

I keep going back to that moment.

That real joy.

The one I found away from everyone who ever made me feel lesser.

I was still around people.

But nothing reached me.

No scrutiny.

No pressure.

No weight.

I could just exist.

And that was enough.

Not food.

Not fake hugs.

Not forced concern.

Not mechanical evenings.

Not selfish noise.

Just…

being.

And now I’m thinking—

what’s really out there for me?

Because from what I’ve seen,

it’s not much.

One real moment of joy…

in 21 years.

That’s the exchange?

It came late.

It could’ve come sooner.

If I wasn’t surrounded by systems.

Money.

Proof.

Value.

Obstacles.

So many moments were taken.

Blocked.

Delayed.

Why does it feel like I have to endure so much—

just to get one moment of peace?

Fifty hardships…

for one moment of solace.

The cost is starting to feel too high.

I’ve been patient.

I’ve endured.

But now…

I want to tip the scale.

In my favor.

And somehow,

I still need permission to do that.

Where is the joy in that?

Why wake up just to accept more tolerable pain?

Because it’s “normal”?

The next few years ahead of me…

don’t feel livable.

I’d be here.

But not really.

Just a routine.

No warmth.

No memory.

No meaning.

Just another tool.

Again.

Switching handlers.

A job.

A person.

A system.

It’s all the same.

And none of it feels worth it.

None of it is worth it.

A fate worse than death exists here too.

So I think about what comes after.

Reincarnation.

What would I even want to be?

Not human.

I never wanted a form.

I’d rather be light.

Water.

Air.

Something formless.

A mind with nothing holding it together.

Nothing to hold it back.

That sounds better.

More honest.

Maybe I’d find something greater there.

Freedom without structure.

Without expectation.

Without cost.

No gods.

No devils.

No systems.

Just existence.

I was never religious.

I tried.

But I couldn’t stay.

I couldn’t give into the greater lie for long.

Once the truth took hold, so did my loyalty to it.

Would I even have a name there?

I don’t think I’d need one.

Who would I need to identify me?

Everyone is temporary anyway.

That part never bothered me.

It’s easy to accept.

Like air.

Always there.

Never forced.

Then I thought about something else.

Music.

The human body is frequency.

So maybe—

I’d just be a wave.

A sound.

A tune.

Something that travels.

Something that exists without being held down.

That doesn’t sound bad.

A formless tune.

Something uniquely mine.

That moves through everything.

That might be enough.

Better than this uncertainty.

Better than this system.

And yet—

I still have this plan.

Retire by 35.

Escape properly.

But even that comes with a cost.

More hardship.

More cycles.

More chances to be used.

Labeled.

Disrespected.

It feels like I’d have a better chance finding joy outside of all of this…

than within it.

Because my joy—

was never going to be given to me.

It was always mine to find.

Alone.

Doing nothing…

is the same as letting it fade.

Day by day.

So now I’m left with a choice.

A system…

or myself.

And honestly—

I think I already know.

I’m a drifting echo.

The Drifting Echo

Hmm… I’m taking writing a little slower.

What I came to realize yesterday, while pondering on today, is that I’ve already achieved the life I wanted—in my own small way.

I found a way to live on a modest low wage.
I learned to love myself fully.
I saw places that the old me never would have imagined. 

I made friends I was happy with.

There were moments where I could have disappeared without a trace entirely.
Yet, I’m still here through luck and critical thinking.

And one thing I’ve noticed, as always, is that I don’t want much.
I already receive so much with so little.

I don’t want much.
Not even a long life.
Just long enough to have lived while smiling honestly. I finally have that joy, not just a fleeting happiness.

It’s time.
It’s probably time for me to become a real drifting echo.

At 21, I finally understand what living truly means.
All it took was a bit of exploration away from my family.
There was no real living there—not with them, and not with any of my relatives.

But I did it.

I found a kind of bliss that feels complete.
No competition.
No race.
Just me.

My real purpose feels realized, and I’m no longer seeking to chase anything long-term. 

If I were, someone else would simply need it more than myself.

I could continue the journey of joy, but I no longer feel pressured to seek more. But
what I have now is also too precious to lose in the pursuit of others’ desires or expectations. I don't wish to live long enough to see myself regret my loss of this joy. I don't believe myself to be above that fate after looking around me for this long.

I lived beautifully—inside and out.
And now, I simply want to be… within that joy.

Not an ending.
Just a quiet continuation.

Sidebar

So I changed the color of my sidebar to match the entire theme. It's pretty cool to me. It's not a regular grey now.

For Non Mobile Users

Typically my website is done from the view of my handy laptop. So feedback may be needed. I can see properly on my site and yet some mobile users have difficulty with viewing my website. This is why i love comments. Remember anyone can with or without a website.

Today, I made s small change where the cursor is now a mushroom and should look like this short clip below.

Drifting Echo

 

There's been a new name change from Nexvira to Drifting Echo. No worries.  to be honest, Nexvira felt more like a brand rather then myself, especially after seeing that a website with that name already existed for some sort of parts.

After

Today I woke up unable to feel.

Last night I went to sleep with sunken eyes and a deep red lip where it’s usually baby pink. I looked worse then. Today I look younger.

Absence does that.

I feel nothing. That’s probably why.

There’s something sad about realizing you’re still naive.

I thought basic decency was standard. I thought if I approached people carefully, they’d do the same.

Last night proved otherwise.

It wasn’t catastrophic. Just small. Enough to confirm something I didn’t want confirmed.

Kindness is optional.

So is cruelty.

I was labeled a clown.

Not the kind that makes people smile.

Just someone foolish for expecting restraint.

That’s the part that stings — not what they said, but that I expected better.

Naivety hurts most when it leaves quietly.

I’m glad my lineage will end with me.

That thought feels clean. But there’s sadness in it too. A quiet rejection of something I never wanted to inherit.

I don’t like my blood.

Not because I hate myself. 

Because I’ve seen what it carries.

I wonder if my friends will worry reading this. They might not. People are busy. I don’t blame them.

This journal is for me.

If someone else feels seen, that’s incidental.

I don’t know what I want today.

Just something softer than last night.

And maybe a little more discernment next time.

Quiet Progress

Today went pretty well for me. I was able to help Astro in ways I didn’t expect, and that alone made the day feel steady.

Somewhere in all of it, I realized something about my journey so far. It seems to fall most naturally into minimalist existential journaling. I’m not just journaling anymore. I’m building an environment.

I think I’m okay with that.

Maybe connection is built through experience to. Not explanation. Just presence.

My blog moves like a quiet mental room someone enters. It isn’t informational, lifestyle, diary-like, or motivational. It’s something else. A space shaped by introspection. An environment that exists for whoever happens to sit inside of it.

While reviewing  my website today, I made a few small adjustments. Nothing dramatic—just making sure it holds up, stays stable, doesn’t break later. I realized I don’t want this to disappear. I actually want to keep my blog even more now.

After a frustratingly long time, I finally managed to add a new sound. It only plays once a button is clicked. Simple, but it works. I’m tired after all of that, honestly.

Still… it feels like progress.

If someone finds this space and feels even slightly less alone in it, then it’s doing what it’s supposed to do. Not because it was pushed outward, but because it existed long enough to be found.

For me, that’s enough reason to keep building it.

Goodnight everyone.

I'm Getting Diverse So Soon?

  

I've got viewers coming in from all over already. WTF? Perhaps my goal can happen somewhat still. Perhaps I can bring some positives changes somehow. Just one step at a time. In whatever small ways. After all. I'm just the faceless blogger with a dream. I'm actually a bit excited. so many different opportunities to connect and grow.

Day One, More Like Round One

Oh, where do I begin.

Well, I woke up with the bright idea to eat some Chana Masala that I picked up from a nice sale, along with some spicy sardines from Galicia, Spain. Despite the fact that I was almost late for my shift, it was rather a nice experience. God, the Chana Masala was good. The spices were just right and hit my taste buds perfectly. Where have you been all of my life? Everything is usually over-seasoned or under-seasoned whenever I eat, but not this dish.

I went about my shift as usual. There weren't many customers today, so the day was smoother than butter.

On my way to the local library, I encountered three important topics: myself, my friends, and my answers. I was having some trouble with my blog design. I had forgotten that food makes me feel sleepy and mistook it for brain fog, but with a bit of patience, I continued on in my search with whatever I had. My identity. A design that reflects me and what I like.

You see, even though I've been alive for so long, I've had the issue of learning how to express myself. Expression of oneself wasn't encouraged without manipulation growing up. I decided to simply let out what's already inside of me.

Luckily, through the memory of Pickles the Galaxy Destroyerrr and their helpful encouragement from last night, I managed to find a clue. What a helpful buddy. Many breaks later—and an appearance crisis from watching Face IQ—I eventually made a new friend: Asto Warren.

He seemed like a pretty friendly guy. Just like me, he wished to explore others, including himself. We hit it off pretty well, at least from my end. He's kind and authentic. He ended up liking my blog so much that he became my first commenter! Ahhh! I'm still excited.

After our chat, I met something terrifying.

Someone who forced me to see what I'm still prone to. Her name is Uwana. She was kind enough to help me out with my design. A fast talker she is, yet kind and swift in the mind. With her, I had finally put myself out there after so long.

I've never been much of a talker to others for several reasons. But I decided to give it a try with her. I sucked badly, in my opinion. I felt so awkward, and my anxiety was rising. I was scared. The longer we spoke, the more she gave her input and talked about herself. I forced myself to keep my eyes on her and engage. As much as I wanted to run, I couldn't. I already started my journey in life—getting to know others, making new things—so what if my first real encounter failed?

Luckily, she didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable I was. I honestly didn't wish to make her uncomfortable at all. We spoke about the different library locations and events. She was even kind enough to show me where the locations are on the library website. I'm going to have so much fun with that.

But that encounter made me realize that, much like Alex Cisse, I was forced to confront something within myself. Something I hadn't had to deal with deeply for a long time.

Myself.

Here I was, trying to run or ignore my thoughts when, in the face of my own determination, there was nowhere to run. There was only to feel. So what left to do now then to keep confronting? Keep learning and exploring? It's what I wanted to do aftercall. It's what I've always wanted. I don't want to be in my comfort zone anymore.