Yes, I Wrote This At Six A.M.

There are times when everything seem to slow down, when I started to go through my memory, much like one would go through a favourite book that had been read over and over again.

I would go through a lot of things that had happened to me.

About the past, growing up, the people I met over the years that changed my life, and anything I remember that I can pull out of my mind. And trying to remember how I felt when I experienced them.

I guess I really miss being in the past. Perhaps because I don't really know where I am going now. Or maybe because I no longer have that absolute belief that life will turn out fine in the end.

Not that I think it is all that bad. Just that I don't really have any idea at all of what the destination looks like, and I feel really stifled by that thought.

I am someone who likes to know how a book or movie ends before I will think about giving it a chance. I hate suspense, unpleasant surprises and not knowing whether it will end up good.

I like, and perhaps demand, a happy ending, but have lots of doubts that it will ever really happen to me.

The eternal optimist hopeful, who doesn't really believe that she deserve the best ending possible.

Paradoxical yet again. Maybe that is just what my life is about. Paradox.

Sigh.