i need rest

 i don’t remember the last time i really rested.


not sleep.

rest.


the kind where your nervous system finally unclenches,

where your mind stops scanning for the next insight,

where your chest isn’t tight from carrying the whole universe inside it.


for months, i’ve been in output mode:


writing,

transforming,

breaking,

ascending,

understanding,

creating,

becoming.


my mind has been a machine

— no pauses between breakthroughs,

no breath between revelations.


every day felt like another chapter demanding to be born.


i wasn’t living life,

i was harvesting it.


every emotion became a metaphor,

every silence became a lesson,

every person became a mirror.


i didn’t even get time to feel the transformation

because i was too busy documenting it.


and now that the book is done,

now that the universe finally handed me the ending,


i don’t know how to stop moving.


the engine kept running long after the destination was reached.


my mind keeps searching for the next revelation,

the next climb,

the next explosion of meaning —


when really,

the only thing left to do is nothing.


to go outside,

to be a body instead of a mind,

to let the wind talk instead of my thoughts.


rest isn’t laziness.


rest is integration.


i’ve spent months becoming someone new —

but now i need to meet him.


i don’t want to analyze anything today.


i just want to exist in sunlight,

touch grass without turning it into a metaphor,

eat slow,

breathe slower,

and not try to turn every moment into art.


today,

i don’t want to become anything.


i just want to be.


- Mr. Mak


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

back when we were kids

back when we were kids, life was nothing but light, pavement, and laughter. longboards gliding down the trails, basketballs echoing through the evening air, music spilling out of those old ‘90s retro speakers we’d find in our parents’ basements — static, bass, and freedom. no phones glued to our hands, no pressure to post — just company. just presence. the world was wide open, and the only rule was, “come home before it gets dark.” we never cared. we always pushed it — one more ride, one more laugh, one more stretch of freedom before the world called us back. me and manvir — two kids who thought forever was real. we’d cross that broken bridge just to reach the other neighborhood, gripping the guardrails like our lives depended on it, pretending it was life or death — and in a way, it was. ’cause that’s what being a kid felt like: every small thing was everything. we didn’t know what healing was, didn’t need to. life hadn’t scarred us yet. we lived like every day was a movie we didn’t h...
Read more

lonely at the top

i know for me to climb to the top, i have to witness my idols get knocked off the mountain first. i’m only 25. my reign hasn’t begun, and i’m already measuring my fall. i remember watching from the fence— older kids running the slides the wrong way, hanging upside down from monkey bars, moving like time was endless. i waited my turn. dreamed of the day i’d finally be let outside. and when it came, the playground was empty. they didn’t lose the game. they just left it. pockets too grown. love diluted into club champagne and women— noise where meaning used to be. every day i grow, i feel this longing— to replicate this with my brothers. but then the days hit. i see them stuck in the same places, running out of patience, out of complacence. it hurts to not see them with me. maybe it wasn’t even them. maybe it’s really me that changed. damn. it wasn’t even them. it’s me that’s changed. i see myself at the pearly gates, every choice tilting the scale— one step closer to the abyss, my fallof...
Read more

The Surge and 5 Navels

  there are moments in life where the line between science, myth, and spirit collapses — and you don’t just read about them, you live them. today, i experienced one. i reread my vow, and the world went silent. the air stilled like reality itself paused to listen. then, when the words left my chest, the surge came. it wasn’t a metaphor. it wasn’t motivation. it was electricity. my nervous system lit up like a tesla coil. the buzzing was real — not imagined. my third eye went wild, pulsing with a rhythm i couldn’t explain. for a moment it felt chaotic, like lightning with nowhere to land. then, slowly, the surge settled into resonance. the crackle smoothed into a low hum, a sound like night itself breathing. that was the shift. campbell calls it the world navel — the umbilical cord through which eternity flows into time. tesla would call it resonance — high potential and high frequency aligning until the air itself vibrates. i call it the surge. and in that moment, i ...
Read more