The Storm
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The memory could not be written.

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  • 11 Dec, 2025 *

I’m on a bus now. It’s crowded, because it’s in rush hour. I see people doing their own things: watching short videos, reading books, chatting and even sleeping.

I’m writing this little essay.

There is a storm coming. I sense the danger and the opportunity coming towards me and they are roaring loudly, yet no one else hears. I feel like I’m facing one of my biggest changes in my life.

The crowd becomes quiet. Here comes the darkness. A light shines on me. It’s a black stage and I’m standing on it without knowing what is coming at me.

Is it good or bad? I don’t know. I sharpen my weapon…

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