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Existentialism On Prom Night |
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There's an urgent desire to come and see how the other side of the world is doing.
And hello. It has been more than a while, more than a while to sort things out get priorities right.
To grow.
I fancy that I have grown, just but a little dear, a little. All the petty angst of yesteryear and the many years before, paled in comparison to challenges ahead of me, academically, emotionally, and spiritually, that I eagerly yet with a heavy heart looked to.
I fancy myself to be more calm and compose, more rational than hasty, more... numb to changes than over reactive.
Mm changes are not always like what it seems to be, maybe I have changed yet many parts of me had not, and as much as I want to scrub away the teenage years, remnants, like that of morning breath, still remains.
Life has been quite nondescript for the past months, passing in a blur with countable exceptions. Or has it? Places I visited and left with a piece of me attached, disengaging myself from the people that seek and destroy.
What have I been doing with my life the past two years? Too much to say, yet too insignificant to type it out too. Well for starters I am a tutor.
I find the joy in passing knowledge to others. I would not be conceited to say that I have the talent to teach, but just... a connection with these poor deprived dying students who needed some light in the dark tunnel.
I'm just that tiny tungsten bulb you find in Science lab, but better something than nothing, no?
I went places that disheartened as well as enlightened, forged memories I longed to forget and yearn to recall. It had been a whirlwind years that welcome adulthood, with the additional burden of responsibility and all the adult words that meant to belittle and scare those who are not in. Met people I want to hold on to until the day I die and people I wish I could shake off.
Of unneeded undeserved adoration and adulation from a perfect man I was stupid enough to throw just so I could chase shadows, intangible.
Hurr, BSc in Economics And Mathematics I love, yet I don't know the path after. Analyst? Maybe. Or continue to study and be oblivious to the working world that I abhorred (I don't count tutoring as work, no CPF). Baggage in the form of classmates needs to be thrown, yet they clung on so so stubbornly.
It felt faintly odd to be typing on an unfamiliar layout, unaccustomed to the stark whiteness and of the cluttered whatzits quite unnerved me. But I'll get used to it. Never knew why I felt compelled to come back here but when I do, there's the heady rush of memories that hit me, rush of memories of that far distant time where I had not much care.
Oddities of life. I don't know when else I'll be dropping by but something in my bones say it would be soon, fairly soon enough.
(:
"How sure are you that I can fix you?"
"I don't know if you're qualified to fix, and I'm not even sure how they're fixed,
But let's just say, I'm one of a kind (: "
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crapster2's journal