One day I sat down and realized something about myself.
I spent my whole life understanding myself, fighting for my identity, and found reality that…
Mustika doesn’t really exist.
She’s just a story, a collection of memories, and a set of inherited beliefs.
“Mustika” is only a fictional identity. A role on the stage of existence.
It’s not my real Self.
This makes me want to laugh. It’s such a funny plot twist.
This game of life is great.
My real self is not attached to anything, and not defined by anything.




















































































