I had my lunch alone. The chewiness of the mozarella cheese gave me some time to philosophize. If I weren’t single, I wouldn’t be blogging. If all of these did not happen, I wouldn’t be back to writing and poetry. All I think about now is myself, and how to fill in my time. I’ve always wondered how it felt like to be carefree, to not worry about how people would think about what I do or say. How fun can that be.
But to think about one’s self can be boring and sad, too. I guess that’s why we’re meant to live for someone, or something, or for some people, but not solely for ourselves.