📜 Prologue
“People often say, ‘Nothing much is happening these days, right?’
But I know.
When something truly big happens, you can’t do anything at all.”
The Year of the Snake has returned to me again and again.
And each time, it brought a shockwave through my life.
At work, within my family, and deep inside myself—
something always collapsed.
On the outside, everything seemed calm.
But in truth, I was quietly disappearing from the stage.
Now I understand.
This is fate, this is flow,
and it’s the fiery year of Si-Hwa (巳火) my inner self must endure.
So now, I write in silence.
Because this is a time of preparation.
1. The Snake Has Returned
It’s 2025, and the snake has come back again.
I already knew—this year would not pass quietly.
And as expected—
one by one, my projects at work disappeared.
No one took them away on purpose.
They simply slipped out of my hands, unnoticed.
I wasn’t pushed.
I didn’t push anyone away.
I was living the same life as before—
but everything was gone.
No one at work blames me.
No one asks, “Why isn’t he doing anything?”
And that silence…
means they already know.
They sense it too—this isn’t my fault.
2. Why I’m Writing
In the past, I was anxious.
“I should be doing something… but I can’t do anything.”
It frustrated me deeply.
Each morning, I’d wake up,
and my heart would whisper:
“Will today be okay?”
But this year, I see it differently.
This stillness isn’t “stuckness.”
It’s a message—a profound one—from life itself.
I can’t move.
So I write.
And through writing, something quietly builds inside me.
Like a single drop of water
that slowly cracks a massive rock.
3. My Wife Knew
I didn’t need to explain.
She already knew.
She understood what kind of time this was—
why I sit so quietly, writing each day.
We had prepared for this.
Three years ago, I already knew I’d become weightless—adrift.
And I’d quietly made a plan.
So this stillness I’m living in now
isn’t truly still.
It’s the laying of deep foundations.
She is the only one
who has seen my life unfold with her own eyes.
4. Next Year Will Be Different
I believe it.
No—I know it.
Next year will not be the same.
This is not a prophecy.
It’s not a dream.
It’s the flow of life.
These records I’m writing now
are the seeds for next year’s bloom.
And when that day comes,
I won’t say a word.
I’ll just quietly show her.
And to my wife, I’ll say:
“This is what I meant back then.”
✍️ Epilogue
I am still writing.
Even if no one reads this, even if no one notices—
I know.
These writings,
this silence,
this calm defiance—
are the hottest days of my life.