Sleepwalking my way through life: "Four"


More first years. Yay.

It's Friday already. Gone is another week that's raced by in a whirlwind of classes and cold weather. These days I seem to be living for the weekend, letting the days fly by without much notice yet drinking in every second of my Saturday.

I was surfing the net till midnight last night. I had logged off MSN at eleven in the vain attempt to drift off, so I stayed up and surfed the net in hope of finding something that would hold my attention for longer than three seconds.

I failed in that too.

So I started re-reading my old posts. I felt that I should do the tradition of looking back into the old when running up to an occasion such as one that is coming. I read all my posts all the way back to the beginning of summer before the sand man tightened his grip on my shoulder and led me to the land of dreams. But before I went to sleep I realised how much things have changed in the past six months.

My posts were very different. I would sit and tell you about my day, about what I was going to do over the weekend and (If I was bored enough) I'd tackle some of the issues that were running through my mind. And another thing, I was funny. Funny!

Seriously, my jokes were like the type you'd find in the likes of Penny-Arcade (Well, in the older days). I used to have puns and quips and a never-ending batch of sarcasm. I was worried that I;d wake my mum if I kept laughing so much.

So what's happened?

Nowadays my posts are more thoughtful and (Dare I say it?) deep. Gone are the days of telling you about my day and what happened, we've come to an age of summaries and ponderings of life, the universe and everything.

When I think about it now, I see how my writing reflects me personally.

If you have the courage to look back on my first posts, you'd see a small, immature child with more knowledge of emoticons than knowledge of the fairer sex. You'd see a kid who's just crashed head first into puberty with no idea what's going on and what's happening next. Erratic writing, random nonsense, and too many uses of the exclamation mark. This, I am ashamed to say, was me.

Fast forward a bit. You find a person who has started to find themselves, to get their bearings in the world. You find someone who's in the midst of changes, depressive feelings, with no idea what to do. The writing is more fluid, there's a point to it, hardly any random crap. This was also me.


I'd like to think I've found myself, but I know I haven't. I know I've barely scratched the surface of what I'm like, how I'll react and change as time moves on. I wish I could fast forward more, see what I'm like in the future. Will I like it?

Probably not. But there's nothing I can do to change it can I?

We shall see, says the blind man.

And we shall see indeed.

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