I haven’t noticed the passing of days. Everything seems to go about fast and subtle: the coming and going of the Christmas holidays; the return of my dearest friend after several cycles of chemotherapy in
Am I talking about it?
All right, exile may not be the best term for it. After all, it best suits deviants, and I believe I’ve been behaving well all these years…I don’t think I deserve such, err, exile?
The real score is I just need to get moving and start living life.
Last night, I looked into my friendster account to check on some grade school and high school classmates. They are really having the time of their life – some of them working poised in the corporate world, many of them making their way traveling in and out of the country, still a number of them already settled abroad. And well, a few of them already married and are happy with their babies.
Now what about me?
I am plugged.
That’s how I think I am. That’s what some people are telling me. Whatever it denotes, at times, I just think I am. Not that I have not grown, not that I have not changed a bit. Not that I have not moved, not that I have matured.
For one thing, I have mastered courage. I come armored with self-confidence and sufficient faith to keep me transient in this world… So, am I really plugged?
So why am I saying all of this? Err, maybe, I just want to. ☺_☺