for the past two weeks, i went back living the life i have been very familiar with. being in a comfort zone could not be more exhilarating than this, where people know you for who you really are, and you are free to roam around the city without worrying about what cannot be done to fill your time.
the friends remain the same, their dreams remain afar.
the temptation to go back is always there to lure you, and it cannot be any greater than this time around. after all, what’s not to like about your own comfort zone?
actually, that’s the key of treating this comfort zone. you hate it.
you loathe it by cursing it with the most comprehensive list of cursive words you can ever think of. you despise it by resisting that living in this zone would only drag you down. you hate it to death.
and by doing so, you keep on living nicely and comfortably till you love it.
and that’s the point where you realize you cannot live in any other places.
and you keep on complaining.
and i wish to quit that.
i just wish to live where i can be living.
sadly, it’s not here.
who are you? i am a writer.
what do you do? i write.
how do you live? i live.