Looking back in time, unfolding the memories one by one, I see things that I didn't realised that time and I thought to myself, "Hey, that could be us!" But then again destiny has a different destination. Reality seems surreal, I can't decide whether it was just my dreams or the places that I've been. I hope and want me to embrace the present and make the best out of it. Sometimes, I don't really present in the present. I somehow detached from myself and just floating around. I talked, I worked, I travelled but nothing seems real. It is like I am not living enough. How could that be possible?
I hate disappointment.
I hate when I feel like I haven't done enough to be the person that I could have been. For example, be a more caring senior, a perfect friend or a knowledgeable, kind, passionate doctor. I think I just been here but not done anything to stay. Get it? It is like I have no destination in my mind. Neither I want to stay nor I wish to run away.
