Mohammad AbbasiFard

A blogger.

For the beginning of 30 years

I was leafing through a notebook that served as my sanctuary last year. Within its pages, I wrote freely, unburdened by the fear of exposing my innermost secrets. We all share this tendency, concealing our true selves in the posts we share with the world. The real ‘us’ is reserved for the solitude of our…

I was leafing through a notebook that served as my sanctuary last year. Within its pages, I wrote freely, unburdened by the fear of exposing my innermost secrets. We all share this tendency, concealing our true selves in the posts we share with the world. The real ‘us’ is reserved for the solitude of our own company.

As I turned the pages, I stumbled upon the entry dated the 25th of Aban, 1399. It marked the day when I felt I had received an invitation to participate in the grand celebration of life. Although I may have been somewhat generous in describing the world as a “party,” I read the unfiltered words I penned on that page last year. It required no censorship, and I extend an invitation for you to read it as well.

I am acutely aware that several hours have passed since I entered the realm of 29 years old. Today, I am 28 years and one day into this new age. I have embarked on a journey into my 29th year, a voyage with 365 days (if life permits) to make the most of it. I carry numerous decisions that have long occupied my thoughts, but there always seems to be a victorious celebration in procrastination’s stead. At the beginning of 2019, I made promises and commitments to myself that were meant to be fulfilled by year’s end.

However, here I am, nearly four months away from the year’s close, and I remain stagnant. I acknowledge that I may be the harshest judge of myself. In light of my birthday, I have chosen not to defer my resolutions until the new year, akin to our typical “Saturday” attitude. Deep down, I am well aware that on November 25th of the coming year, I should be celebrating achievements rather than excuses.

Today, in response to my reflection from last year, I must assess whether the state of affairs in my personal life is characterized by progress or stagnation. To be honest, it often feels as though we wage an internal battle within ourselves daily. It occurs when we grapple with our decisions, and within that internal conflict, there lies a war. However, war inevitably brings destruction, and when we look back, all we may see are the ruins of our past decisions. In such moments, our task is to rebuild upon the remnants.

The past year was not without its share of turmoil for me, but in comparison to preceding years, it was also a year of greater achievement. It is both defeats and triumphs that contribute to a person’s happiness. Today, I find myself among the happiest individuals on Earth, content with my creations and more determined than ever to rebuild amid the wreckage.

On the 25th of Aban, 1401, I am here, reading and writing, contemplating a world in which I am alone. If life permits…

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