Two days of absence again. It's funny how nothing notifiable happens in as many as 50 hours. Or maybe the entire struggle is to keep it as is. Just to keep up is also hard work. Weekend is here and this one's going to be very boring. The old boys of neighbourhood are busy getting their shit together at 200 km from where they belong to. Trips to the cafe will only end in one cup if chai; or maybe two, given the break time takes before we call it another Monday.
A good friend is tying the knot this Sunday and I wish her all the luck on the new ballgame that awaits her debut. On a parting note, she wished I get a good woman to call mine and I wished her wish come true.
I was talking to another person of interest last night. We mused about the chronology of events that we partook in and it was only epiphanic how I always have managed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Some call it hard luck. I prefer Irony.
As more number of days being ladled into my bowl of life, I am beginning to see how humanly flawed the people I call my parents are. I stress humanly flawed. My father's a conservative and only time has taught me that. But he only tried to outdo the definition of a father in every way possible for us kids. My mother's just any other mother, who's always got a pinch of suspicion towards any new friends of her children but her eagerness to feed the hungry us trumps all her other worries.
Only it's getting increasingly difficult to be a homeboy at this age. 2016 has been kind to me. Hope 2017 carries the lineage and lands me up in a place that cures my domestic anxieties.
A good friend is tying the knot this Sunday and I wish her all the luck on the new ballgame that awaits her debut. On a parting note, she wished I get a good woman to call mine and I wished her wish come true.
I was talking to another person of interest last night. We mused about the chronology of events that we partook in and it was only epiphanic how I always have managed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Some call it hard luck. I prefer Irony.
As more number of days being ladled into my bowl of life, I am beginning to see how humanly flawed the people I call my parents are. I stress humanly flawed. My father's a conservative and only time has taught me that. But he only tried to outdo the definition of a father in every way possible for us kids. My mother's just any other mother, who's always got a pinch of suspicion towards any new friends of her children but her eagerness to feed the hungry us trumps all her other worries.
Only it's getting increasingly difficult to be a homeboy at this age. 2016 has been kind to me. Hope 2017 carries the lineage and lands me up in a place that cures my domestic anxieties.
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