Scribbles

I want to scribble again after a period of dryness for words. Now that my daughter is eight months old, I can hear the call of ideas shouting inside my head again. Although I have not put my way of expressing a thought into practice, I’m willing to give it another shot. With a bit of luck, I wish to be enthused once more.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

This one is for you

You leave, I watch.

There has to be more—a thought that you grappled with, during your six years. You constantly search not just for some sense of existential peace, but for purpose and meaning on what you do--a direction to life that upholds both reason and emotion.

There's got to be more than what you toil for everyday. I know that you do not get your value and worth from the things that you produce. I'm glad that you finally did it. I also figured the same solution but I left it untried.

How can I forget you, you're the only friend I have here. . .

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