we could talk if days weren't so fast~
Sometimes I have important things to say, but never the time to update. Then, when I have nothing of consequence to speak of, I find myself actually writing out an entry. Go figure.
I've gotten into this bad habit of going to sleep for 3 hours when I get home. Not a good thing. Results in not much getting accomplished. Same old story. Mediocrity is my middle name.
My best friend from high school has disappeared. At least she is incommunicado and has been for sometime. I’ll add her to the ever growing list of people I’ll never know again.
It is weird to think of those people from my past. People that were once close are now so distant. Distant to the point that I have not spoken to them, heard from them, heard of them in years. I wonder about them sometimes, not because I am wishing to rekindle our friendship/relationship but more so because I wonder if they sometimes think about me. When they are waxing nostalgic do they happen upon a memory that makes them think: “Whatever happened to her?” I think of the impact that these people have had on my life. I think how I would not be the same person with the experiences they granted me. I just wish I could get updates, newsletters, something. I want to see how these people have aged. Now, when I picture them, they stay frozen at the age I knew them last. It as if their existences have become static. They only become animated when I am focused on them, on their pasts. They can never move forward but only relive the brief time that I shared with them.
See, nothing of consequence to say. Nothing that makes sense.
I've gotten into this bad habit of going to sleep for 3 hours when I get home. Not a good thing. Results in not much getting accomplished. Same old story. Mediocrity is my middle name.
My best friend from high school has disappeared. At least she is incommunicado and has been for sometime. I’ll add her to the ever growing list of people I’ll never know again.
It is weird to think of those people from my past. People that were once close are now so distant. Distant to the point that I have not spoken to them, heard from them, heard of them in years. I wonder about them sometimes, not because I am wishing to rekindle our friendship/relationship but more so because I wonder if they sometimes think about me. When they are waxing nostalgic do they happen upon a memory that makes them think: “Whatever happened to her?” I think of the impact that these people have had on my life. I think how I would not be the same person with the experiences they granted me. I just wish I could get updates, newsletters, something. I want to see how these people have aged. Now, when I picture them, they stay frozen at the age I knew them last. It as if their existences have become static. They only become animated when I am focused on them, on their pasts. They can never move forward but only relive the brief time that I shared with them.
See, nothing of consequence to say. Nothing that makes sense.