alovesecrecy.

The Word “Friend” I’ve been thinking about the word “friend” lately. It’s a word we tend to give away too easily — sometimes out of comfort, sometimes out of habit. But not everyone who walks beside you is meant to stay. Some people are just passing through, sharing moments, not meaning. And maybe that’s okay. I’m learning not to be too quick to label people as friends. Not everyone deserves that space. Not everyone understands what it takes to hold it. I guess I’ve been a little too open, a little too easy with my kindness, a little too comfortable around people I thought were friends. Maybe it’s time to return to myself — to be a little more guarded, a little less available, a little more intentional with who I let in. Not out of bitterness, just clarity. Some connections are real, some are temporary, and some are simply lessons. It’s not new — just something I’m finally choosing to honour.

Sleep Paralysis It came back. Sleep paralysis  —  is a condition where your mind wakes up, but your body is still asleep . I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s the pace I’ve been keeping. Full-time work, then part-time on some evenings. Training during the week, futsal when I can. Weekends don’t always slow down either — sometimes another session, sometimes work again. And in between, I still find time for a run here and there. It’s been… a lot. But also something I chose. Maybe it’s just my body catching up. A quiet reminder that I need more sleep, more rest. I don’t really have an answer. Just learning to take it as it comes.

Not too late You learn your place in someone’s life through their actions. If you are not a priority, there will always be endless excuses. That alone tells you how much you truly meant to them. Nonetheless, I wish them well. On a brighter note, I’m looking forward to more training and fitness — preparing myself for what’s ahead. Even though it feels like pain and torture at times, I hope it will all be worthwhile. This is something I’ve wanted for the longest time. Call me petty if you want, but I never had the chance before… and I might just get that opportunity in the future. Call me a late bloomer if you must — I don’t mind. After all, you only live once. It’s refreshing that no one in the team knows me. Let them judge me for who I am, not for what others say about me. The only downside is that they’ve already built strong bonds among themselves. But that’s alright. I’m not here to chase acceptance. I’m here to prove to myself that I can still show up, still push through the pain, ...

In-Between With HIIT in place, My body is starting to feel different. They say, trust the process. I try. There are still so many things I want to achieve. Plans waiting somewhere in the future. But nothing really moves outside of God’s plan. Maybe that’s the real process. I can’t wait for the day I have my own place — my own space, my own design. Just hoping it won’t cost a bomb. So many feelings involved. Some days I feel super restless. Some days my mind just blanks out. And in the quiet moments I notice something strange — a small void in my heart that I can’t quite explain. Maybe it’s just another phase. Maybe it’s just the waiting. For now, I guess I’ll keep trusting the process.

Fasting Month Two weeks in. Barely surviving. Flu took a week out of me. Body fragile. Energy thin. Such a weakling — or so I call myself. Weight crept up quietly. Now I’m negotiating with the mirror. HIIT for discipline. Sweat for redemption. Then breaking fast like I earned the feast twice. Cycle repeats. Truth is, I don’t feel Raya this year. No spark. No anticipation. Just routine dressed in tradition. Same greetings. Same questions. Same version of me standing in the same room. Maybe it’s not the celebration. Maybe it’s the setting. Maybe one day, in my own place, on my own terms, Raya will land differently. For now, it’s just another month I’m trying to get through.

Japan Trip  Two weeks away from work, from home, from people — felt like rinsing something off my skin. No roles to perform. No expectations waiting at the door. Just movement. Trains arriving on time. Streets that don’t know my history. And then — snow. My first snow. In Kyoto , it fell quietly over temples and narrow streets, softening wood and stone like the city was exhaling, a light snow. In Tokyo , it felt surreal — snow against neon, flakes dissolving on busy crossings that never really stop, a medium snow. At Mount Fuji , it didn’t feel decorative. It felt vast. Cold that demanded respect, white stretching into silence, snowed for a few minutes. And in Sapporo, Hokkaido , it felt at home. Thick. Certain. Unapologetic. Snow that didn’t melt at the first touch, a heavy snow, especially in Otaru. I watched it land on my sleeves like proof that I was somewhere entirely different from the life waiting for me. I walked without being watched. Ate without...