By the way,

This winter is a perfect metaphor for my life in this country. My dream life is currently frozen until I get out of this country. Ironically, my dream life is unattainable until I finish what I set out to do here.

Feels like my dreams are slipping away out of memory, as I try to make myself into something better here, more mature, more compassionate, more considerate, more understanding.

There's nothing in this country for me except a better me. A necessary evil, as home is too comfortable and familiar, with family that will not let me risk. A long degree in a foreign country with high standards . . . now that's something difficult and ideologically dangerous enough to make me better. Or so I told myself years ago as I first came here.

Life has moved on, I have moved on, I thought, as I contemplated leaving to go back home to pursue the dreams I didn't know I had. Leaving home does that, it makes you recognise the things you love and took for granted, things you needed and made you complete and functional. However, my task here wasn't yet complete, my parents reminded me, and so I had no choice but to stay. Staying on here, degrading into forlorn version of my older self. Each day became a chore, a set of motions executed out of duty. To complicate things, I let childish obsessions distract me from my misery.

Then a twist of fate. A few months ago, I reclaimed some of my former self. I unknowingly spent time and money to nourish the old me, ignoring everything I was meant to do. I did it without thinking, without realising my body started to do things for its own good. 2 months passed. I started to come back as I rested and energised. It was as though I was locked away for years. In a way, I was.

Now, I'm hiding a hint of unreasonable confidence that I used to have and loved about myself, it was foolish to let myself lose it and be replaced by calculated reason. It took a failure to wake me up.

Dreams and goals now fill my head. Restlessness fills my body. Obstacles once unsurmountable seem fallible.

In the last 3 years, I learnt a little about myself. I have weaknesses. I can get discouraged. I can get distracted. I finally understood I could fail. The illusion was broken, the bubble burst. I felt powerless and resigned myself to my imminent fall, trying to salvage as much dignity as I could as my world fell apart.

Then a spark lit. Weaknesses sweeten the victory. Courage is a fire which burns defiant in the face of despair, fueled by desire. Distraction is fear manifested. I want to die a warrior's death. Scars remind me that I have lived. These are wisdoms I once knew, but forgot, and now remembered again.

I'm staying in this country voluntarily now. I have unfinished tasks, unproven to myself that will complete in 2 years. Then I'm going home to create the life I want . . . every single, elaborate, impossible part of it.

The mind will plan and assess, but desire is the motivation behind every act. I did the mistake of letting my mind decide my life for the past few years, and listened to advice and thought too much till I questioned everything I believe, leading me to come very close to making mistakes I will regret. No more. Now what I want calls the shots, no matter how unreasonable and foolish.

Age may alert my eyes to dangers previously unseen, but the blind cannot see. And blind courage is what I have.

I'm back, world. And this is my battle cry. Just watch.