Jose's blog

There is not much I can do about the happenings of the past, no matter how much of it I would have liked to change.

It has been twenty-seven days since I last published on this website, yet those twenty-seven days have been perhaps the busiest I’ve been since beginning my streak of writing and publishing daily.

The fear of death comes to us all, yet it varies from person to person.

Solitude is not the absence of people, but the presence of oneself.

We often reserve the word ‘courage’ for moments of spectacle.

I’ve noticed that envy doesn’t visit me randomly.

I turned 24 years old earlier this month.

Is it weird that I feel more comfortable reading the words of the past than the words of the present?

I imagined becoming as a decisive moment—a clean passage from one state into another.

I once assumed that the important trials of life would make themselves obvious, that they would announce their arrival with noise, tension, and perhaps even witnesses.