The answer.

What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?

The thought of loving and living for a long time feels like unfinished business in this current incarnation. I often wonder—what is the purpose of such a prolonged existence? Why would I remain in this life for so long, and to what end? The questions weigh heavily on my mind, yet the answers remain elusive.

This morning, I decided to muster up the courage to confront a long-standing curiosity. I approached a relative who, in the past, had shown little interest in my father, often distancing herself from him. Her sudden display of care and concern towards him puzzled me. Why the change of heart after all these years?

I picked up the phone and called her. When she answered, I carefully phrased my question, asking how her lunch with my father had gone. Her response was immediate and firm—she denied any such meeting. Her denial surprised me, though I had anticipated her reaction to some extent. I had even prepared for this moment by discreetly capturing evidence of her earlier interactions. Deep down, I suspected that her motivations were not entirely genuine.

Over the years, I have observed her actions and noted the insecurities and envy that seemed to drive her behavior. She has always been a figure of intrigue and caution for me, particularly because of her known association with practices of black magic. To this day, she wears a hex ring, a symbol that, in my eyes, signifies her attachment to such malevolent practices.

Though I cannot claim to fully understand her intentions, the exchange left me with more questions than answers. It reinforced my belief that some relationships are steeped in layers of complexity, making it difficult to separate truth from deceit. In this journey of life, as I seek clarity and purpose, I am reminded that not all answers are meant to be uncovered—some mysteries are simply part of the fabric of existence.

Around 12:52 PM, as I dozed off, an unusual image unfolded in my mind, as though orchestrated by forces from the other side. It felt like someone—or something—was peering into my thoughts, trying to grasp what was occupying my mind. At the time, I had been listening to an audiobook titled “Don’t Complain, Nobody Cares.” One particular phrase resonated with me: “I don’t care for nobody.” It struck a chord because, in some ways, it reflected a part of me.

Then, a curious vision took shape. In the imagery, GKJ  appeared, with shooting a rubberband on a white, flattened box. From it, he shot a rubber band aimed at the steering wheel of my car. The act felt deliberate, as if it were meant to disturb or provoke me. The rubber band hit the wheel just as I was teetering on the edge of sleep. The jolt from the vision coincided with a real-world knock against my windshield, instantly waking me up from my drowsy state.

The timing was uncanny, almost too precise to dismiss as coincidence. It felt like a strange intervention, forcing me to remain alert. As I reflected on this, I couldn’t help but think of GKJ  and his behavior—his insecurities, his tendency to invade others’ privacy like a peeping tom, and his cowardly, wolf-like demeanor. These traits have always lingered in my perception of him, unchanging and shameless.

It left me wondering if he still harbors the same dark energy, the kind that could lead him to a nameless coffin, forgotten by the world. Has he learned nothing from life, or is he destined to remain the same, trapped by his own flaws? The thought lingered as I shook off the remnants of sleep and focused on the road ahead.