(forgive me for this post, it's a little on the internal side...)
Whether it be amongst comrades or fellow luddites, or the guitar player at Ol' Zen's bar in Kowloon, or even more intimately with the friendly morning conversations over Masala tea with a wonderful man opening up his home to me for a lifetime experience. There's a lot to be said about these minor encounters.
Back at home, I often found myself mostly struggling with distinguishing verbal and emotional sincerity. Mostly, I spent nights butchering my behavior, pining over what I should have said or done, or meant to say, laying in bed at night writing in a journal of all the things that I wished would have came out, and scribbling down neverending jibberish... irritating the incalculable question: of how many times in life will I miss the actual significance of the mere wonderful moments. How can I recollect them all?
Is there ever too much introspection?
Here, I've created a space on the internet to indulge myself. Sometimes I feel as if these words may be received with less merit as if I were a non-fictional writer, just articulating the very nature of events. But, who can account from this human experience better than I, the person experiencing it. I always feel the need to ask myself...
is my life nearly that interesting?
Coming back from the night on the ferry, I put this song on repeat. A tear or two. How beautiful to put into words... life's gamble. That there isn't any crispy realization to the events occurring, it takes time to digest how much you've laid down, and how long you've actually been bluffing and purging out false realities.
And, there's times like these that you can see your life from across the planet.
Lonely thoughts, huh?
Man, I would have loved to lay my head on a familiar shoulder, of someone I care about, and share this experience, the time spent in someplace unfamiliar. But, I suppose it's the unfamiliarity that brings you to such conclusions.
Building the stacks of experience.
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