January 7th, 2026
A Wednesday, quiet and draped in that post-holiday stillness where time seems to stretch like taffy, slow and sticky. The festive lights have mostly vanished, the tinsel packed away, and what remains is this liminal stretch of winter where days blur into one another like watercolor smudges. It's boring, sure. But boredom isn't always empty it can be a canvas, a pause before something new stirs.
And yet, even in this monotony, there are anchors. My friends. They're the kind of people who turn a dull day into something worth remembering not with grand gestures, but with shared silence, dumb jokes, or just showing up when everything else feels like static. They don't fix everything, but their presence softens the edges. In a world that often feels harsh and indifferent, their steady care is a quiet rebellion against the cold.
I've been thinking a lot about health lately not just physical, but the whole tangled mess of it: mental, emotional, spiritual. My condition doesn't take holidays. The voices, the fog, the weight in my chest they don't clock out for New Year's. Some days, just getting out of bed feels like scaling a cliff. But I'm holding onto hope, fragile as it is, that the days ahead might be kinder. Not perfect just better. Healthier, even. Maybe not all at once, but in small, steady increments. A full night's sleep. A meal I finish. A moment when the noise in my head quiets long enough to hear my own breath.
And then out of nowhere music. Specifically, phonk. Yeah, I know. Some people roll their eyes.It's cringe, they say. Too gymmy, try-hard, low-effort beats. But honestly? Who cares. Music isn't just about technical complexity or critical approval it's about how it makes you feel in your bones. Phonk hits me in a way that's hard to explain: it's chaotic but controlled, nostalgic yet futuristic, aggressive but strangely soothing. There's a rawness to it, a digital grit mixed with soul samples that somehow mirrors the messiness of being alive right now.
Right now, I'm listening to -Montagem Eclipse- If you've never heard it, give it a try it's like driving through a neon-drenched city at 3 a.m., windows down, heart racing but mind finally quiet. The bass pulses like a second heartbeat. The chopped vocals feel like ghosts whispering advice you almost understand. It's not "deep" in the academic sense, but it's real in the way streetlights are real harsh, illuminating, unapologetic.
Boredom wraps around me like a thick blanket, but it's not suffocating today. Maybe because I've stopped fighting it. Boredom used to scare me what if I'm wasting time? What if I'm falling behind? But now I see it differently boredom is space. Space to breathe. Space to listen to music, to my thoughts, to the rare quiet between the hallucinations. And honestly, the climate outside doesn't help. Gray skies. Damp air. The kind of weather that makes you want to burrow under layers and disappear. And the people? Most of them? Nah. Ass people, as you so eloquently put it. Judgmental, loud, disconnected. But that's the thing you don't need everyone. Just a few good souls. The ones who see you, not your illness, not your awkwardness, not your weird vibes. Just you.
Those are the people who make the good days begin.
Because good days rarely start with fireworks. They start with a text that says "you good?" They start with someone sharing their headphones. They start with a shared laugh over something stupid, or sitting side by side in comfortable silence while phonk thumps in the background. They start when you realize you're not as alone as your mind sometimes tells you.
I used to think healing had to be dramatic breakthroughs in therapy, sudden clarity, a montage of self-improvement. But real healing is quieter. It's choosing to listen to a song you love even if others mock it. It's eating more than half your lunch. It's letting yourself be bored without guilt. It's acknowledging that today is hard, but you're still here, still trying.
And yeah, maybe phonk is gymmy.Maybe it is cringe to some. But it's mine. And in a world that's constantly telling us how to act, what to like, who to be it's liberating to just enjoy something unapologetically. No justification needed. No defense. Just bass, beats, and the feeling that, for three minutes, everything else fades away.
So here's to boring days that hold hidden sparks.
To friends who are family.
To music that doesn't care if it's "cool" as long as it moves you.
To small hopes for healthier tomorrows.
And to you listening to -Montagem Eclipse- feeling seen even in the silence.
The world might be harsh, but we're still making beauty in the cracks. Keep your headphones on. Keep your friends close. And never apologize for what brings you peace even if it's "cringe." Especially then.
Because joy doesn't need permission.
And neither do you.