My soul just turned fat. Slowly digesting the pages of Isabel Allende's Portrait in Sepia, I have finally found a friend to relate the sentiments a wallflower like me have. There is truth and emotion to the things I observe, and frustratingly there's only one pair of eyes to understand and be moved by such life.
Now I understand why I have short attention span and have a hard time being engaged and maintaining eye contact with people. Maybe it had something to do with my mind wandering endlessly. Eyeing every nook and cranny. I suddenly want to go into investigative journalism. Be out there and rock like a bohemian gypsy, captivated by the massiveness of the earth, air, and sea. Show people's bullshit but witness their happy stance.
I hope that in time people would see the things I see and listen to the fire in me.
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