i am leaving to US in about a week time. i was supposed to be excited about this trip. but why can't i? like how i thought that things would be better after i quit my job. but the reality is that they haven't got better.

i supposed that life is just a cruel bitch.

i'd like think of life like an author would write a book. think about all the exposition that forms the foundation of whatever the next chapter is. and i think about character growth and the kid i knew back in school. think about who he's become and why, think about where he's gone and how. think about the big steps he took, and how they never really seem like much in the moment.

or maybe life isn't a book. maybe life is more than words and numbers. maybe it's just a collection of small moments that make up milestones. and you just do what you know and try to see it in the best light.

i know the future is coming and i can't hold it off.
but i just want a little more time.