Filed under: Hoolabaloo
I could have been there. I could have been that person. We could still have had communication. I could have been a little more famous.
Yes, folks. It’s drama time.
Truth is, I just read a couple of blog.
The first one belongs to that person that — I don’t know. He’s always been a source of inspiration for me. Whenever I see him — get too close to him — I always get this fluttering feeling in my stomach. Been introduced to him twice, but never again have we talked to each other, even when we meet eye to eye.
But then, whenever I read his writings, he just give me this unbridled happiness. I don’t know. It seems that it comes naturally from the letters peering at me and it grips me slowly as I digest his meaning behind every word. Admiration much? Maybe. What could have been? Had our first meeting turned out to be such a lovely one, we could have been friends now.
The other one? Yeah, I could only take a deep breath. Actually, I had always been feeling this nostalgia of what we had been when I still belong to their world. But that world — the blogging and online world –, I left behind. I made some really good friends, had been too close to some — to the point that I almost fell in love with one , or make that two –, kept secrets, met up with them. All I can say is I really had a great time with them. Why did I leave and made myself unreachable suddenly? Let’s just say I was tired of being too fake and once and for all, I wanted to stop being too nice, to stop talking about ‘other friends’ back, to just stop being Ms. Congeniality and all. It just doesn’t feel natural that my world started to revolve around my keyboard, the emotionless words I’m reading, and the apathetic language that I’m communicating with. It was just too exhausting to be surrounded by the same, unreal people.
Had I continued being with them, what could have happened? No one knows for sure. I could have been a little more famous of a blogger — or not, depending on my capacity to widen the horizons of my readership. I could have gone out with them a lot and taken some really good booze — or my allergy to alcohol could have made me such a killjoy that they decided not to invite me again. One of them could have been my boyfriend — or not, should everything became messed up with rumors. I would never really know.
And now, reading some of them again, it just makes me regret why I did such thing. Nevertheless, nothing really changed. It was just meant that I would lead this way, and them, theirs.
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