Sometimes I feel like I've been an adult all my life. All the stuff of everyday can make me forget I was ever a child and that I had a whole life behind me. There are memories, out of nowhere, that would flash in my mind and remind me that I wasn't always like this. They come randomly, wherever, and whenever--when I'm walking, when I'm working, when I'm crossing the street, getting to my ride, having a meal, drinking coffee--I'd get these flashes of memories of a different life.

Remember how you used to play in the fields in the afternoon? Or attempt to walk up to the foot of the volcano? Or jog early in the morning towards the beach and catch the sunrise?

Remember how you would play hooky in college? Or dash to your early morning class straight from a night out?

Remember how you used to smoke? Drink whatever you can drink? Remember the weekends you spent at bars? The morning afters with a tinge of regret?

Remember when you used to buy tons of books promising yourself you will read all of them until the next bestseller comes along and half your books gather dust in your bookshelves?

Remember when you spent all weekends watching and rewatching Studio Ghibli movies? Or entire nights spent reading books forgetting the world?

Sometimes I forget I did all these things, I had all these memories. But when I remember them, I feel old. It seems a lot of life had happened and I feel weathered. This moment now shifts constantly and it's easy to forget where I had been or even where I'm going.

I look at the future with some trepidation. Not only because of what's happening beyond my control and the politics of the world, but because I feel that this, for me, is middle age. I know for sure I will never live to 100. So this, now, in my 30s, is right in the middle.

But whereas the first half had been hopeful and full of potential, the next half seems narrow and dim, as if everything now moves towards a very certain death.

I feel I am running out of time and there are thousands more left to do. In the end, I wonder, how will I make sense of my entire life? What will be my story, the purpose of why I lived?


  1. "Remember when you used to buy tons of books promising yourself you will read all of them until the next bestseller comes along and half your books gather dust in your bookshelves?"- one of the many things that made me realize how time passed me by while i was too preoccupied with many other priorities. like you, my future too is not very clear but i hope that may this realization prompt you to find your focus and start writing the story you want for your future. :)

    P.S. i continue to acquire new books even if it means adding to the already high pile of unread purchases. :)

    1. I cannot find my focus yet. It's something I'm constantly working on. It tends to shift, especially when there's a tug between the present and the future. I'm trying to find the balance between living in the moment and thinking long-term. They don't always agree with each other. :)

      On books--that's common for bibliophiles. I was born with a reading list I will never be able to finish. Haha.


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