Time Travel

It’s been a week since I’ve blogged, and I’ve so many things I want to pen down (some mini trips I manage to squeeze in between my busy schedule) but so little time to work with. For the past nearly 3 months I’ve been working on so many academic writings and read so many textbook/journal materials that I think it’s starting to take a toll on my writing. I lack that instinctive mood that I need to get into in order to produce a piece I’d be proud of. Ironic, really—I took up my elective of Writing Angles just because I think it’s easy to excel in it (while learning a thing or two along the way) but even that seems a tad bit difficult now.

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This feels like time travel—or at least, our story does. It’s the breakfast of Coco Pops here at the same time you’re munching on your minuscule dinner of a single pizza slice; it’s me huddling beneath my blanket asleep while you’re awake at the classes you hate; it’s chatting during our waking and pre-sleeping hours; it’s in the e-mails that we crafted to each other daily; it’s in your e-cards; it’s in the thoughts we put to words and words that formed thoughts; it’s in the underlying horrors of timezones and Daylight Savings Time; it’s in the summer of 2010 when we’ll finally meet.

I picture myself if I can grow old with you.

And that picture is what I’m striving for.