Dear Tubby,
I find myself writing you again – the one person I knew I could rant to and find myself still being Superman afterwards. No matter how tough it gets, you were always there – even when I was telling you to go away. You would still be there, listening to what I would have to say.
Sadly, it’s pretty tough to find someone to do just that now that you’ve been gone for almost four years. And what’s even more sad is that things are much more complicated now than it used to. As I grow older, there are days where I detest having to grow old and do much more grown man stuff – to be able to survive and make a decent living.
So I’ve had a bad day again. Well, a bad couple-of-weeks to state a fact. I feel like shit most of time. I find myself asking the same question much more frequently – What am I to do with my life? Most of the time, I like where I am and what I’m doing, equally or a bit less, I find myself detesting or just questioning why I am doing the same thing. You know how I am – I am like the modern-day version of Rufio. I am a part of the “Lost Boys” wherein I do not want to grow up. It felt like growing up was a curse rather than something one should embrace. Growing up meant more bills to pay, the constant desire to see the world, thereby working and saving up to be able to do that. And then there’s the responsibility that comes with the job. Something that I have to admit, I couldn’t or wouldn’t want to handle at times.
Tubs, how I wish there was someone who could talk to me and tell me stuff that would not necessarily make me feel better, but would gear me into the right direction. I wish there was someone who would assure and affirm me and let me know when I’m already doing something stupid – who would whine even more than me, and would point out that other people have stuff they’re going through. I wish there was someone who’d also tell me about how their life sucks and that they need advice – more like an exchange of ideas, thoughts, and more importantly – HONEST OPINIONS.
Oh well.
