Everyone is a walking feng shui system.

When our mind is chaotic, our energy field follows. When our diet is chaotic, our face follows. When our thoughts are chaotic, life obediently joins the mess.

The clearest proof of my “human feng shui malfunction” is the moment I unleash my triple combo: ice cream, fruit, and dessert, back to back.

I know I have a dampness-prone body. I know I’ll break out in rashes, itch everywhere, and host a full-blown cha-cha party of internal humidity.

But before eating? Zero guilt. While eating? Pure bliss. I genuinely believe I’ve ascended. After eating? Instantly demoted back to a mortal, scratching like I owe someone money.

Every time symptoms hit, my inner monologue screams: “I SWEAR I’LL NEVER EAT LIKE THIS AGAIN!!!” Three days later, total amnesia. Like an addict relapsing, tears and mucus everywhere, regretting with one hand, taking the next bite with the other.

Sometimes I find myself unbelievably infuriating. I understand all the principles, yet fail at the most basic execution.

People who can stay ruthlessly disciplined feel like divine beings descending to speedrun life dungeons.

As for me, this repetitive crap-eating alchemist I’m probably the NPC looting random items on the side, accidentally clearing the dungeon.

But maybe this is the feng shui lesson of life. Every moment of indulgence comes with a price. Every bodily reaction is a report card. Every regret is the universe gently reminding us: “This consequence? We ordered it ourselves.”

We reap what we sow. I sow ice cream, fruit, and desserts, so my harvest is the deluxe eczema set.

The funny thing is, though: every piece of gold I refine from this crap-filled regret helps me understand myself a little better.

That’s the strangest part of human feng shui, we live chaotically, yet somehow end up living more clearly.



—— XC Scribbles · 陸拾陸 LXVI 🍰