Returning to the Forgotten Page

They say that as we grow older, we lose interest in many things that used to excite and delight us. I’ve felt this myself. Back then, blogging was one of my favorite things—a space where I could share stories, thoughts, and feelings without limits. But time seems to have its own way of stealing our attention. Day by day, responsibilities pile up, endless tasks demand our focus, and I started to see free time as moments to lay down and do nothing. “Rest,” I’d call it, but often, it was just an excuse.

Now, as I look back at those times, a quiet regret begins to creep in. So many beautiful moments, precious memories, and little stories that I once wanted to share are now just tucked away in my mind—sadly, some of them are starting to fade. I was too tired to write them down, too busy to keep them alive.

Blogging was my way of celebrating life, and when I stopped, it felt like a part of me went missing. Now, I’m trying to make peace with time, to reignite the passion that once dimmed. Because in the end, writing isn’t just about sharing stories with the world; it’s about keeping myself whole.

When I think about it, all I really need to do is type a few short sentences to capture precious moments. It’s that simple, yet somehow, it feels so hard. There are countless reasons to stop, to not continue sharing my stories. Besides laziness—the most frequent excuse—I’m often haunted by questions that drain my enthusiasm. What’s the point? Who even cares? And even if someone reads it, what good will it do them?

These thoughts feel like walls, blocking my desire to write. I forget that writing isn’t about who reads it or what impact it might have on others. Writing is about me—about how I treasure each moment and give it a place to live longer, more vividly. Every story I write is a small dialogue with myself—a reminder that I’ve lived meaningful, colorful days. And even though I sometimes doubt, I know these stories hold value, at least for me.

In fact, I can feel how precious those stories are. When I have free time and start rereading my old writings, it feels like stepping into a time machine. I’m taken back to those moments—moments that may have long passed but remain vividly clear when I read them again. There’s a feeling that’s hard to put into words. My heart aches as I revisit stories filled with sorrow, recalling how heavy those times were. But I also find myself smiling at the happy stories, those times when I was brimming with energy and hope.

And amidst it all, I realize one thing: life isn’t as simple as I often think. It’s not monotonous, not empty. Those writings are proof that I’ve gone through so much—bittersweet moments, joy, and sadness. They are tiny mirrors, reminding me that my life is full of color, even when I forget to see it.

After all, writing doesn’t have to be about grand stories or significant events. Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that are most worth remembering. There are so many lessons and beautiful memories to be drawn from the little moments we often overlook. As simple as gazing at the sky through an airplane window—watching clouds that look like God’s paintings, feeling so serene. Or as simple as meeting kind strangers who may only pass briefly through our lives but leave a warm impression.

Even stepping foot for the first time in a place I’ve never been before feels special. There’s a certain magic in the simplicity of those moments—a gentle reminder that life isn’t always about big achievements, but also about savoring the small details we often take for granted.

I’ve decided to write again. On this page, but this time in my own language—Bahasa Indonesia. Before, I always wrote in English. Not because I was overly confident, but because I was shy. I was afraid someone I knew might read my writing. It felt strange and awkward, imagining them knowing what I think or feel.

But then, every time I checked the visitor stats of this blog, I was left puzzled. So many foreign visitors somehow stumbled upon this blog. I often wondered, what do they think? What value do they find in reading about the life of someone they don’t know, on topics that might seem unfamiliar to them?

Sometimes, I even felt sorry for them. Perhaps they were just lost in the vast ocean of the internet, stranded on this tiny blog because their search went astray. Ironically, amidst the shyness and confusion, I found myself missing the honesty I used to share here. And now, I want to write again—with more honesty, more ease, without worrying too much about who might read it.

To all of you, the foreign readers who somehow keep returning to this blog—some even typing its address directly into search engines—I’m genuinely surprised and touched. It means you deliberately wanted to find your way here, to this little corner of the internet. Thank you. I don’t know what makes you come back, but I truly appreciate it. Maybe, within these simple stories I share, you find a bit of comfort, a lesson, or even a small reminder.

I just hope that this page, no matter how small, can be a pleasant stop—even if just for a moment—on your journey, wherever it may take you.

This time, though, I want to write again in my own Indonesian language. All this time, I’ve been so focused on mastering foreign languages that I forgot how beautiful my native language is. A language that holds so much emotion, that always wraps stories in warmth. I miss writing with words I can fully understand—words that feel close and familiar. I want my stories to be read by those who understand my language, who might feel the same way, or simply want to see my perspective on life.

Bahasa Indonesia is an irreplaceable part of me. Writing in this language feels like coming home—a place where I can be myself, without the effort of translating feelings into another language. Writing is a journey. Sometimes I stop midway, sometimes I lose direction, but I always find a reason to return. Through these simple writings, I want to document my life—not for anyone else, but for myself.

If someone happens to stop by and finds a little comfort, a lesson, or just a companion in these stories, that’s more than enough for me. Thank you for visiting, and I hope you, too, find the beauty in your own little stories.

Update 5 January 2025:

I can't resist writing in English, as it's what I've been doing since the beginning of my blogging journey. So, I decided to post my Indonesian writing on another blog of mine.