So far so good. Out of college? Check. Time invested in productive and paying activities? Check. Getting enough sleep? Meh. Yeeeah. Sort of.
Getting to write?
*thinks hard*
Well, yes and no.
My job entails that I do. It's wonderful work and my immediate colleagues are the best. I still haven't had the privilege of making my acquaintance with the rest of the office, but that just might be a good thing. Your tendency to like people is inversely proportional to the info you have on them.
Meanwhile. On my writing front.
This blog was the first to curse me. I think my last post was when I was in *checks* SYBMM. Oh. Wow. Okay, that is a long time. A year and four months ago. Jesus. What happened? A lot, apparently. I grew up. I made friends. I held on to the ones I already had. Became more passionate about the things I believed in. Calmer in my beliefs of the same.
Do I feel weird that college has ended? No. Upset? No. I can never be, for something that was the best thing to have happened to me. And any ex-alumni will know that you can never bid my college adieu. A real and true farewell just doesn't happen. I'm glad. I like some of my apron strings attached.
The road ahead is long, curvy and quite a blind-spot. Anybody my age reading this post would feel the same way. It's the state of most graduates, unless you've had the privilege to sort or be sorted. In which case I would LOVE to be your friend and disciple.
No, my pondering wanders into the dicey territory of creative writing. I am confronted by a white quietude wherever I look. It could be the neatly lined page of a diary. The bright starkness of this blog page (STOP STARING, OKAY!?!). And my inner concern that I may not be able to do them justice.
What if we keep sitting here, this page and I, staring, till my eyes bleed out? It just looms over my head. Preposterous, really, until you stop to think. What if your ability, if untapped for long, fades away? Just goes, whoosh, to someone who would be more indulgent with it? Like a dejected suitor finding solace in the arms of a MUCH HOTTER broad. (Okay, that metaphor went a bit too far).
I'm rambling, I know. This is exactly why I don't drink. I probably wouldn't be able to shut the hell up. But there's something about this post-graduation life that has my thoughts criss-crossing like centipedes on fire. It's evident from this post. I had no idea what I was going to say when I began typing. And now I can't stop. It's a pile of incomprehensible gibberish, anyway.
And I need to be in bed soon. Work beckons. If I'm lucky, I'll probably not oversleep after having bizarre dreams of kung fu-ing Korean men and Oldboy playing on a DVD which was supposed to feature Rome, Open City. Yes, I said 'bizarre'. If you're grammar nazi enough to substitute it with a better word, go ahead. Make my night.
While I'm off to make my day. Starting right now.
So good night. Keep dreaming. Keep working. And keep reading. Keeps the noggin a-tickin'. I'll just try to be regular with this little space right here.
Getting to write?
*thinks hard*
Well, yes and no.
My job entails that I do. It's wonderful work and my immediate colleagues are the best. I still haven't had the privilege of making my acquaintance with the rest of the office, but that just might be a good thing. Your tendency to like people is inversely proportional to the info you have on them.
Meanwhile. On my writing front.
This blog was the first to curse me. I think my last post was when I was in *checks* SYBMM. Oh. Wow. Okay, that is a long time. A year and four months ago. Jesus. What happened? A lot, apparently. I grew up. I made friends. I held on to the ones I already had. Became more passionate about the things I believed in. Calmer in my beliefs of the same.
Do I feel weird that college has ended? No. Upset? No. I can never be, for something that was the best thing to have happened to me. And any ex-alumni will know that you can never bid my college adieu. A real and true farewell just doesn't happen. I'm glad. I like some of my apron strings attached.
The road ahead is long, curvy and quite a blind-spot. Anybody my age reading this post would feel the same way. It's the state of most graduates, unless you've had the privilege to sort or be sorted. In which case I would LOVE to be your friend and disciple.
No, my pondering wanders into the dicey territory of creative writing. I am confronted by a white quietude wherever I look. It could be the neatly lined page of a diary. The bright starkness of this blog page (STOP STARING, OKAY!?!). And my inner concern that I may not be able to do them justice.
What if we keep sitting here, this page and I, staring, till my eyes bleed out? It just looms over my head. Preposterous, really, until you stop to think. What if your ability, if untapped for long, fades away? Just goes, whoosh, to someone who would be more indulgent with it? Like a dejected suitor finding solace in the arms of a MUCH HOTTER broad. (Okay, that metaphor went a bit too far).
I'm rambling, I know. This is exactly why I don't drink. I probably wouldn't be able to shut the hell up. But there's something about this post-graduation life that has my thoughts criss-crossing like centipedes on fire. It's evident from this post. I had no idea what I was going to say when I began typing. And now I can't stop. It's a pile of incomprehensible gibberish, anyway.
And I need to be in bed soon. Work beckons. If I'm lucky, I'll probably not oversleep after having bizarre dreams of kung fu-ing Korean men and Oldboy playing on a DVD which was supposed to feature Rome, Open City. Yes, I said 'bizarre'. If you're grammar nazi enough to substitute it with a better word, go ahead. Make my night.
While I'm off to make my day. Starting right now.
So good night. Keep dreaming. Keep working. And keep reading. Keeps the noggin a-tickin'. I'll just try to be regular with this little space right here.
Good morning!!and Welcome back we all tend to get sleepy at times....
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