I can't begin to imagine that I have to be writing this after such a long time. I never thought that this page is still running. Glad I can still remember the passcode. This must be the outcome of not being able to talk to anyone, heart-to-heart in years. Living in solitary and away has made things so mundane that my appetite for life has ceased. I was once a person who loved to joke around, socialize, chill at some coolest bars in the metro.
All of those gone. All of those are just archived in my phone gallery. Now I begin to look back and ask myself what happened? Where are my friends? My family? Have they forgotten me? Or is it otherwise? All I know is that I'm still functioning well. I still go to work, get paid and take the days off -- usually just room bound, taking care of my plants. Others may see it as boring and unproductive, I see it as joy, a luxury. Not being able to answer to anyone's needs except myself. I can eat whenever I want. I can watch movies online, may it be horror, overly gory or just a minute-long porn.
Am I sad? Lonely perhaps. Maybe this kind of sadness springs from knowing too much? Knowing what the world really is? That everyone dies in the end?-- No matter how fabulous or dramatic their lives are? It is a kind of sadness of having truly accepted that life is not a grand adventure as what others say. Rather it is just a series of small, insignificant moments. Happiness is never a permanent state. Today you are overjoyed, tomorrow you will be in deep sorrow to the point of ending your life.
