Well, here I am writing this at 31st October 2025 at 4:25 AM. I thought that maybe I’d have someone next to me to talk to, or even someone to write this story with beside me, but I guess things turn out differently than you hope sometimes. So I’m publishing this to my ramblings page, just in case you want to read one wild month’s journey.
The month began with hope, carried from conversations and late-night calls. You know, there’s a thing people talk about: the “three-month rule”. After three months of talking to anyone, especially a girl, you’re on borrowed time. For some reason, that mark arrives and people can switch up on you faster than a cheetah, leaving you questioning what really happened. October made that a reality for me. She’s gone now. Vanished out of my life, quick. I don’t hold grudges, though; I genuinely have no regrets. She helped me change for the better, a motivation I rarely got from anyone. I became a different version of myself, and it’s something I’m still working on every day, for my own future. Funny enough, while she inspired me, I never seemed to be someone who could help change her bad habits or fulfill that old promise we made about “talking until our 90s”. Sometimes, people are just passing chapters in your life, and promises fade.
Things took a turn for the worse. My health took a nosedive. I landed in the hospital with food poisoning. Four days unable to eat or drink, even water seemed like my enemy. There’s something humbling about lying in a hospital bed, weak to the core, questioning if anything will ever feel normal again. Days blurred into each other. Between vomits and staring at the ceiling, I realized how fragile happiness and stability are. Those days, I relied on thoughts of recovery, physically and mentally, to keep going.
Right after I was starting to get a little better from the poisoning, I had a call with her. Out of nowhere, she messaged me and asked how I was doing. We ended up on a call, and that’s when the reasons for her disappearance came out. Honestly, some of her reasons sounded like excuses, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I just nodded and agreed with everything she said. Played the good guy, always do. I guess some habits just die hard, trying to understand, trying to be the one who gets it. I hope she’s doing better now, wherever she is.
When I finally got out and started feeling slightly more human, I managed to finish my Seminar KP. At first, it barely felt real; my mind was still caught up with everything else. But in time, it became a small victory, a little order in the chaos of the month. It felt like a rare win.
The biggest hit came next. Visiting my grandpa in the ICU was something I won’t forget. The feeling of “ga tega”, that helplessness of watching someone you love suffer, cut deeper than I expected. Leaving him in that hospital, only to find out he had passed the very next day, was a punch I didn’t see coming. That week, my brain kept replaying the last moments and the things I wish I’d said. If there’s a lesson, it’s that goodbyes really don’t wait for us to be ready.
Despite all this chaos, one thing stands out: the numbers next to my name. My trading results went beyond expectations, side jobs paid off, and I proudly have 150 mio rupiah sitting there. That’s a small but meaningful win in a month that felt like a never-ending storm of events.
People say October’s unpredictable, full of twists and surprise canon events. This year, it proved that to the fullest. It’s been a rollercoaster of personal change, heartbreak, loss, setbacks, and small victories. Some nights I wondered if I would ever get a break. Other times I caught myself smiling over tiny wins or memories, proof that even the darkest months carry flashes of hope.
What I learned from all this is that sometimes you change because someone pushes you, even if you never get to help them back. Promises break, hearts soften, and from the rubble, new strength emerges. And even when money is the only thing going up, you realize how much you value everything else that’s gone down.
October left me with pages full of stories, most unfinished, some painful, some hopeful. If you’re reading this, maybe you’ve experienced your own surprise canon events, sudden losses, unpredictable endings, fleeting hopes, and broken promises. I hope these words remind you that each chapter still matters. Even just surviving, that’s progress.
So, I’m ending October here. Cheers to the ups, downs, lessons learned, and stories still unwritten. I’m proud of what I managed to get through, just making it to the next day. November is waiting with its own twists, and I’m ready to write whatever comes next, no matter who’s sitting by my side.