My arm hurts. Sharp pain shoots through it every once in awhile. It feels as if my nerves have shorted out and are just sending signals of pain to my brain. I dislike this shell of a body that doesn't work properly. Then again, I don't know what it’s like to work properly.
Last night, I spent the hours at the Paskuhan with Anthony, Mac and Melvin. Also met up with some of my 3A friends for some light-hearted moments, and then went on later to meet Pai and the 4C gang. It warmed my heart somewhat, to see all these familiar faces, friends who gave me a “home” in psychology, people whom I’ve grown close to, established relationships with, and gave me the reason to stay.
Such is the life of irregular students. We grow roots, and then get uprooted hoping to be transplanted into another soil. Hoping that time will not change the familiarity of our mundane existence.
But the time that passes by is dynamic and always changing. People grow up, buildings fall down. It moves in circles and there is release from new bondages.
And tomorrow, when I wake up, an old crush and dear friend would have returned, and things will never be the same again. Everyday, something changes, and it would be foolish to wish it were yesterday.
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