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Every time I start to write (type) something with a digital app, I feel a moment of uneasiness when choosing a Font. Do I stick with the default? or do a little exploration — trying something new?Each time I drop down that font list, My eyes are overwhelmed by a flood of different forms. Slightly different, but I can understand them. It’s the same language, after all.I’ve tried some, but it doesn’t feel right . . . Most of the time, I end up going back to the default ones. It just felt more natural to write (type). Maybe it’s because I grew up with them?As I type letter by letter, the language instantly manifests itself as forms on the screen. As I write (type) and see the same form over and over again, does that make the forms themselves gradually become ingrained in my brain?Much like learning a language, but it’s about the form — or what we call as a font.Usually, I don’t think too much about the font itself. Either stay default or pick whatever feels ‘comfortable’ at the moment. But does it affect us in certain ways we’re unaware of?Does it affect how we retain information? our emotion? or even things we haven’t considered? It’s an unsettling thought.Plenty of scientific studies discuss how font design can impact us in different ways. But in the end, it depends on our personal experience with the font itself. We can recognize a language due to its form (font). In most cases, I use them in variation, depending on the context or purpose.You can find tons of font recommendations out there, each with its own distinct feature. But when it comes to starting a personal digital journal where I write everything down — It feels a bit daunting. I wanted to make it more personal as I would use it for my very own (digital) life.However, writing (typing) in a digital app isn’t the same as hand-writing, where you naturally shape each letter, giving it a personal, organic touch that feels like your own signature.Fonts can’t replace that feeling . . .Sticking to what I’m familiar with, default fonts is the easiest option. But, it feels a bit stagnant. Handwriting always has those unpredictable variations that keep it fresh. That’s why experimenting with fonts can help — it’s a way to bring some of that organic, personal feel to the digital space.In the end, a bit of variation can be refreshing, but for most of my writing, the default font feels just right. In the future, who knows? My ‘font vocabulary’ could grow even more. A little side exploration that anyone can do.And, 2024.

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Do any of you sleep with your phone right next to you? I’m sure a lot of people do. Starting from a moment of silence, a little ‘tingle or noise’ in our mind, and our hands trying to reach the little phone next to us.Thinking it’ll only be a few minutes, … scroll, scroll, scroll, scroll, scroll scroll, scroll … Oops… It’s been hours already? And when it happens every time you sleep, you’re tearing yourself up the next day, every single time."A story for those lying in bed, phone in their hands, lost in the light amidst the silence of darkness . . ."The little ‘tingle or noise’ that your phone’s emitting, keeps us mentally on all the time. Like food in a Jar, when it’s opened, you’re thinking of it, tempted to eat it. And when you’re done, you close the ‘lid’, right?But, what about our phones? We leave it open all the time, we do lock the screen, but it’s still on. When you put it next to you, you can feel it, especially when you’re heavily dependent on it, it’s become part of you. Even when you turn off the notifications, close the screen, the urge to use it lingers on the end tip of your hand.Simply leaving it and going to sleep, might not be for everyone. So? we should close the Jar (phone), But we can’t turn it off. Unlike PCs, we let our phones on all the time for the sake of others — be it work, relationships, or more — and we can’t dismiss them for our egos.But that doesn’t necessarily mean we use them at bedtime, especially for something unimportant. That’s why we do not turn it off, but we have to figure out a way to turn it off (mentally) — a suitable lid to close the ‘little noise or tingle’ that your phone emits (the jar itself). It’s not a full shutdown, but it works to pause your mind from getting tingled."But, what is your lid?"One experiment I tried was wrapping my phone in paper like a gift as a ritual or routine before sleep (a lid to close the jar).The paper covers my phone like paper, and I can write my agenda or reminders on it. When I touch it, it feels like paper. It evokes a certain feeling, like when I use my paperback. It looks nice, and I don’t want to ruin it because I love paper. Every time I wrap it up, it’s a “good night’s sleep” gift to myself the next day, the future me. When we look for ways or tips on how people deal with these issues, we may not find what works for us since everyone is different and unique.That’s why we have to find out what works for us—our own way of closing the jar (the lid). Either we : put it in a box, tuck it into a book wrap it in a handkerchief, or cover it with something or anything unusual that might work for you There is no right answer for every situation.It’s a little experiment, a little act to close the jar, and a gift to you who wakes up tomorrow. Something that anyone can try to explore.And, 2024.

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As he wanders lost through the vast desert, his footprints form a path behind him . . .. . . with every step, he carries a broken hourglass where sand flows through his hand — pouring out in a thin line, forming a timeline . . .. . . as he walks further, the path slowly fades away, eaten by nature itself . . .. . . as he looks further, no end line is visible to him . . .Yet, with each step, he unknowingly draws a timeline with his foot, forming a line of history that fades away with time itself . . .. . . In the end, whether he chooses to walk or stop, the time on his hand still slips away . . .And, 2024.

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Maybe it’s because we heard it before . . .Somewhere in our past . . .… for some, it might be part of their childhood—just a normal day at home, watching our father, mother, and relatives busy with their newspapers …… for some, it might be the scene of society back then… As they walk through the busy cityscape— they can hear the sound of the world, scattered in the air as everyone hold and cover their faces with newspaper…… for some, it might be part of their old routine — the vivid memory of reading it, touching it, and the sound of holding it in the palm of their hands …Despite all memories we associate with — we do miss it.… the crinkling sound …And, 2024.

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… In a quest to experiment with Digital Minimalism, I discovered an app that completely changed my entire relationship with my smartphone …It’s a Minimalist User Interface app that turns everything into words.... After using it for over a year, not only has it reduced my screen time — but it also allows me to open each app with a crystal—clear awareness …

No more bias nor distraction …
… all those different shapes and colors, It’s been pulling my eyes all over the place … It’s too much.
And can you believe it?
It feels even better when I use it with Laptop at the same time. As I focus on my heavy work, it stands quietly in the corner, blending with my paper as what I see is only words.I have never been this free after all these years …And, 2024.

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. . . Deep within his head lies a little hidden world — built and maintained by its people, the tireless slaves of his mind . . .As the sun rises to the sky, a peculiar rain begins to fall. But, it’s unlike any rain we know of . . . It’s a never-ending phenomenon where the sky is dominated by a thousand sticky, clay-like boxes, each made from a strange type of soil, a raw liquid of information, which shapes the terrain of the world as it falls . . .. . . In order to maintain a balance, the slaves labor endlessly as they push, pull, and mold the heavy boxes, softening and smoothing them into the earth . . .. . . It’s a dystopian world where the rain never ceases and the slaves keep working ‘till it ends . . .

. . . I can’t see this little world with my eyes as what I see is a man, looking at a screen, day after day whether the sun is up or down, with an overflowing inbox . . .too much . . .
some can hold their roots,
yet some've become empty abominations . . .
pretty words're not enough to conceal that . . .And, 2024.

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. . . Deep in the silence of the dark, lies a little man — lying on the bed as a flood of thoughts fills the lonely chamber of his mind. Dreams… Hopes… Desire… Passions… Ambition… and a little touch of Delusions are molding together — forming a little box to be his own little world to live in . . .. . . Either he bends the reality of his life to fit the little box he has or . . . Stepping out of the box, and be free . . .. . . He may not be able to see the little box himself, but the others around him may be able to, including me . . .. . . Should we set him free, or let him bend the world itself . . .And, 2024.

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This is something I learned from a book called “Goodbye, Things” by Fumio Sasaki. Wait… I’m here not to spoil or repeat everything said in the book — Go Buy It !!! This book is great to help you understand the art of decluttering itself.Of all the points the author has made, there is something that I see as a key to why some people have a hard time letting go of their belongings — Our emotional attachment to them. I want to tell you a story about it . . .To declutter means to let go (get rid) of the stuff you do not need, but it’s not that simple. As human beings, it’s in our nature to own things — we form a relationship with them. To “simply” cast them away, it’s difficult as it feels like losing a piece of who we are.For example, are any of you familiar with the Recycle Bin on your PC? How about Temp Files? Imagine if they did not exist in the first place, Can you press DELETE without a second thought?I mean, all of us have these kind of doubts:
What if I need this later?
Hmm… I can still use it.
Maybe I’ll use it someday …But, Are you Free?"You pay rent, time, and attention for your things... Is it worth it?”- - -
01 Find a spot (your temporary box)
02 Put things that you don’t need in it, leave it alone . . ."Let the time do its thing,
till’ they be forgotten,
...it’s easier to erase them..."a routine to tryAnd, 2024.

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. . . One day, at a certain place,
I put a piece of paper on a wooden desk —
eager to immerse myself
in a deep-silence creative process
of brainstorming . . .. . . At the right time and angle,
The light pierces through the roof,
Dances through the branches of the trees,
Manifest itself as a living sculpture of shadow,
Tainting the whiteness of my paper . . .. . . I’m not alone,
the local nature speaks to me —
As I stroke the tip of my pen,
the duet of shadow and light
perform a live show in the background
with my pen as the main actress . . .. . . It’s a little joy, a small moment at a place, at a time . . .And, 2024.

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. . . In the midst of the unknown, in a space of time, a man has walked for so long - following the rhyme of time . . . and now, to reach the end of the line, the end of 2024 . . .. . . With each step, he tainted the emptiness, forming a record of his tale, as the path of paper he walked on has become the written one . . . yet to be stored to disappear with the aging of time . . .. . . As the end is near, he yearns to pass a Final Letter, a conclusion to his long journey, to be remembered, to be a lesson . . . for the next one . . . in 2025.. . . So he traversed the past, to swim through the records, to watch his own written tale as a movie of recollection, to see its beauty and ugliness . . .. . . Deep down, he wanted to crumple the ugly ones, to cast them away, to let them disappear, and not include them in his final letter, as he wanted it to be a pretty one . . . but he saw a future . . . a room full of crumpled papers, to be repeated once again . . .. . . So he sits down and writes his Final Letter, to accept everything, a written truth, a message for the future . . . as it's finally done, he passes it to the next one, and be gone . . . forever . . .. . . The Final Letter, 2024 . . .And, 2024.

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For some, a window is a privilege as every piece of certain land is so precious and everyone tries to fit into it, no matter what it costs . . .

To be awakened by the light,
To be bathed in the warmth of light,
To see our glowing skin, painted by the light,
A window can offer . . .To see the huge world we're in,
To see the bare reality we're in,
To feel connected to the society we're in,
A window can offer . . .For some, it's just a normal, mundane thing for them. But for others, it's a dream of comfort and a longing to be in . . .

Thus, they sit alone in a room without a window . . .
Basking in the silence of light without emotion,
Trapped with the time itself,
Forgetting in which part of society they belong to,
Disconnected within, and from the world itself . . .As the screen becomes their window to the world,
To see the scenery of the sun, yet not to feel,
To see the image of society, yet not to bond,
And to feel the time as the number changes . . .It's a lonely place to be in . . .

Yet, just one step out of the room,
To venture as an adventure,
To be drowned in the sea of light,
To walk past the busy part of the world,
It's a liberating joy to be . . .And, 2024.

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Tok . . .Tok . . .Tok . . .. . . As the clock of the world is going to a reset, yet a feeling of an end for us, human souls . . . Every second is an echo that shakes the world, as it feels slower and louder as it beats . . . as the numbers change, one by one . . .. . . Though how loud the world seems to . . . as we make it to be, yet how silent it is for other living beings — thinking how abnormal and mysterious it is to see how we shake the world, as that particular second hit our reality . . .. . . It’s a closing to our long tale of a journey — a moment of a reset as we’re a slave to the law of the world, as we live according to its clock, a cycle of its own . . .Tok . . .Tok . . .Tok . . .3 . . .2 . . .1 . . .Tok . . .[ 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 ]. . . As the number is being reset in front of our eyes, something . . . “Click” . . . inside us . . . as the clock of the world resonates with the clock of our souls, we enter a state of reset, either to be celebrated or to be embraced in a moment of silence together . . .As the old clock of the world has stopped,our world, our reality, everything flips . . .upside down . . .and so does our life . . .Then, a new clock begins . . .and with it, we move . . .Our journey starts again . . .as the clock moves . . .as we do . . .to appreciate it . . .as a cycle . . . of everything . . .Tok . . .Tok . . .Tok . . .And, 2024 | 2025.

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