A Letter to 29

Freedom Is Writing Life into One’s Own Poem

Are our 20s the most bewildering stage of life?

No longer able to act recklessly like a child, yet not equipped with the wisdom of the older.

When I first read Camus’s Sisyphus as a child, at least one thing was clear—
I was far too young to understand it, so I tossed it aside and went back to anime.

In my 20s, curiosity was like a runaway horse, dragging me across places, East and West, each with its brilliance and its flaws. Yet no matter where I was, I felt like an outsider amid the bustle. Even if everyone lived within the framework of what they thought society should be, living the “happy life” as prescribed, was it really right, just because everyone around me did the same?

Caught in the whirlpool of history’s cycles, have you too felt like a pendulum trapped between opposing magnetic poles—pulled, pushed, torn by obsessions, unable to return to the cocoon you came from, and never quite touching clarity?

A grey person, in a chaotic world, not knowing what tomorrow holds. And some, no matter what, cannot deceive themselves into forcibly joining in. Camus called this the “Absurd.”

Dragged along in this way until 29, one day, I suddenly recalled that stone-pusher.
I am him.

At last, I truly saw him—and fully saw myself.
I tore off the mask, turned away from the mainstream, left behind everything of the past, and walked toward myself. Yet it felt like exile.

There are always moments when we desperately need a reason and a drive to invest ourselves—if that is what we call “meaning.” The pursuit of truth is instinctive, yet exhausting. And so compromise becomes the first choice for many.

“The obvious in abstraction falters before the lyricism of form and colour. Every inner conflict finds its concrete expression. Nothing is resolved, yet everything has become beautiful.”
—I no longer remember where this line comes from.

This was the birth of Bluooo & Ti. Her arrival brought me a long-lost calm and peace, just as like-minded worldviews brought such artists before us. The brand was created to guard the flame within, to give kindred souls a place to gather.

Absurdity is not the answer. Deconstruction is but a temporary anaesthetic.

Life is always half joy, half pain; feelings flash past like lightning. Sisyphus may not always be happy, but there must be moments of happiness. The courage to resist is not happiness itself, but it is the key that unlocks happiness. At least, that is what I believe.

Will the world get better? Will life get better? No one knows. But I don’t fear, for I know who I am.