Believe it or not, I have attended quite a few events here and there since my last update. Though none of substance. And I have met no one of substance. I think my life is one of those things that's filled with colorful events that are not noteworthy but form the shades of my life. Maybe life is helping me to write my book filled with colorful characters and experiences but nothing noteworthy, a mish-mash of sorts. It's like there's pool of people around me, pool of experiences and noises and chaos and then, there's me right in the middle of it, still alone.
And then, people say, it's great that you have all these experiences, amusing and uncharacteristic and they cause me to snicker in my quiet time, but what's the reward? Like Forrest Gump or Benjamin Button, filled with sordid encounters but still..still.
We'll talk again soon, I promise.
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