Sunday, September 25, 2005
It's odd but I've come to realize that I write so much less when the days are bright. And it is not so that there is less to write about, but more so that my hands are reluctant to invent prose when they are not grappling about in the darkness of mind. Bliss and contentment have such busy agendas; here one moment and gone the next. But if anything, I've learnt to be patient, for I am certain now that they will return before I know it; there is nothing to worry about, only trust in the notion that they are everybit as committed as I am.
Life, of course, is not without setbacks, that would be a dangerously unrealistic thought to think. But I have a good deal on my hands to be light-headed about, and it really shouldn't be this surprising to find that the highly underrated notion of happiness is really a great thing to come by. And now that I consider it all, --
the promise of a very productive thesis, a remarkably interesting courseload, a boy that gives me butterflies, a long-awaited trip back to the island, friends -new and old- that make me laugh, and the grace of having a home full of very friendly, very lovely and very familiar people -- the grass really could be greener on my side.
sherry @ 1:25:00 pm
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