Updating from Bangalore, May 29th, 2026
Only a few days remain, and the city continues beneath its pale evenings and rain-soaked skies as if time itself has not noticed the weight gathering inside me. I had imagined these days differently. I thought I would emerge from them carrying something solid in my hands, a victory, a discipline restored, a self no longer divided against itself. Instead, it feels as though I have misplaced even more along the way.
Every wavering attempt leaves its own quiet stain. Every lie, even the small ones whispered only to myself, settles like dust over the heart. Failure does not always arrive as a single collapse. Sometimes it gathers slowly, thread by thread, in moments of hesitation, in promises left unfinished, in the distance between what one knows and what one chooses.
Still, the work continues.
I remain occupied with the results of the Reckoning List, arranging scattered fragments, revisiting old lists, tracing the faint outlines where memory meets accountability. The work feels heavier now, perhaps because I already know what waits at the end of it, the familiar shape of another failure, another season that slipped through my hands while I stood wavering at its edge.
There is something unsettling about watching forgotten moments rise again, one by one, as though time itself had only buried them lightly beneath the dust. Names return. Words return. Silences return. Yet perhaps this, too, is a form of witness, refusing to let certain things dissolve quietly into the dark where no one is made to remember them.
For now, the days pass between unfinished work, restless reflection, and the faint hope that even a fractured rhythm can still be gathered back together.
Earlier entries are archived here.
This page reflects where my heart, mind, and fight are, it evolves as I learn more about myself and this journey. These actions are grounded in the commitments I made on the Reckoning List. This page was inspired by Derek Sivers.
Yasir Abbas 