the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough

The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG) - 12/8/2025 the road that has not yet begun โดย athanasia(อาธานาเซีย) @Plotteller | พล็อตเทลเลอร์

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The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG)

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ตะวันตก,เรื่องสั้น,เล่าประสบการณ์,อื่นๆ

แท็คที่เกี่ยวข้อง

ชีวิต ,ชีวิตประจำวัน,ชีวิตประ,ปรัชญา

รายละเอียด

The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG) โดย athanasia(อาธานาเซีย) @Plotteller | พล็อตเทลเลอร์

the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough

ผู้แต่ง

athanasia(อาธานาเซีย)

เรื่องย่อ

สารบัญ

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เนื้อหา

12/8/2025 the road that has not yet begun

i sat down to sketch my life as if drafting the plot of a new story:

— sell when the dream in thai through instagram

— send the english manuscript far afield — to the uk, the us, korea, and japan

— finish the second volume by early next year

— by the year’s end, travel to china to write a philosophical book among distant villages

i pictured opening pre-orders in china — the regular price at 380, but for those willing to “support a dream not yet real,” i would sell it at 200 including shipping… they would receive the book within a month after i returned to thailand

but the question pressing on me was not how many copies would sell — it was: “how much money will i truly need to make the journey real?

i tried to press the cost of living as low as possible: shared dorms, local food, public transport. by my estimate, 30-50 doll per day. would that be enough? is rural china really that expensive? or is poverty and wealth nothing more than the measure of an outsider’s eyes?

sometimes i dream further — buying a van, converting it myself, living with complete freedom. but laws of import are tangled and heavy… should i surrender to the system’s grip, or let the uncertainty of the road dictate the course of my life?

“is spending half a year in the countryside a waste of time?”

or is it, in truth, the act of buying time — so that i can say with full voice: “i have lived that life

for even half a year may speak louder than a lifetime of one-week volunteer trips

i sketched a plan: three months to visit 10–20 villages, then return to them again in the following three, closing the journey like a poem that begins and ends with the same line

and so the journey would not be wasted, i want to turn it into two things:

a documentary capturing lives under a different system,

and a philosophical novel recording my own solitude

as i wrote today’s entry, i thought of the “three Gods” from a story i once composed. perhaps they are not sacred beings in the sky at all, but simply: money, time, and meaning.

we pray to money — for survival.

we pray to time — to stop its relentless pursuit.

and we pray to meaning — so that what we do will not vanish into oblivion

i asked myself again and again:

“if one day the three Gods pass judgment all at once, what will i have left in my hands?”