Not moving on

This is the period when everyone's worrying about their choice of unis and here I am blogging this away. I have to say and admit that I'm pretty envious of this all. That people were moving on and finally getting out on something better or worst but at the very least, moving on.

I was telling a very close bud about how my mantra used to be doing things so we'll never regret. Leaving no room for regrets was one thing I've learnt from my dead grandfather, but also the one thing I think I failed terribly and incredulously at.

If only, If only sounds like lyrics from my favorite song now. Playing a million times away on my player, ringing in my ears and lingering as shakespeares would in my mind.

There's really no room for regrets. It makes you turn back to reminiscne years that you've lost, things that you might have gotten and people you might have better contacts with. It makes you laugh, then quiets you down and finally sends you into a depression state full of what-ifs and probablys.

I am not moving on. I am not. I know it, but I am lying to myself that I'm moving on so I can lie to myself that I'm not so useless afterall. Somehow in the back of my mind something or someone is telling me that I am so afraid to move on because it spells changes for me. Not minor changes or environmental ones, but character wise.

I am struggling to move on and to change which almost seems inevitable. One day I will lament about how successful I am in one field and how I failed terribly in another. I'm probably just a sore loser who can't take it or a free spirit who can't stand being tied down by strenduous formalities and superficials.

I might really become a tour guide someday, as my full-time occupation and that probably drives everyone I know to grave or at least send them rocking the graves out like bon jovi.