evolution

I've pretty much already accepted the reality that I don't miss writing all that much. I do remember the first time I fell in love with it --- I was 12 and I'd written my first poem... in the bathroom. It was a love poem. I didn't know squat about love at the time, I had a few innocent crushes here and there, but I'd never experienced anything remotely romantic save for when I would fantasize to be the Maid Marian to Kevin Costner's Robin Hood. Before that, I was into reading, nay, devouring Mythology books, Shakespeare (yeah, SHAKESPEARE), and Roald Dahl. That's mostly how I got the glasses, next to all the videogames I played and Jap Anime I watched on the Sci-Fi channel as a kid.

I loved to read.
Then I loved to write.
And now, I kinda have this feeling I can only love something one a time because I'm kinda excited about loving just how to live and talk and socialize and being relatable and not-relatable and personal and up-close. I mean, sure, I do that all the time. But I want to make a conscious, conscious effort of it. Perhaps, it's the new career choice that's made me aware of it. And maybe it's the culture on FB that isn't too interested in long-ass blogs as they are with pictures on instagram. I just wanna be around people and I wanna take my social skills to a whole new level. I wanna just walk around and allow society to envelop me. I wanna go on dates with friends and dinners and lunches and client meetings and meeting strangers. I wanna learn how to listen... professionally. I wanna make it a talent not just a quality. I wanna be someone people wanna be around... once they're around me.

Then later on, I can evolve to being a happy, little hermit who will find happiness in reminiscing and recaps and loving retrospects... all from the comforts of my rocking chair.