Changes.

I think it changes you. It might be cryptic. Maybe no one knows what I'm talking about, but thinking that nothing is going to change you and that you were gonna be true to yourself is too noble a thought even to the best among us.

She was just like any one of us with a perhaps extraordinary talent, or with a quality perfected by years of honing, and she was optimistic about her future. When her big break came she might have told herself yes this is it: time to show everyone who I am.

Without knowing she has now become what others want her to be.

Without knowing she will become the person she is pretending to be.

Before long she will forget herself and maybe fizzle out. Maybe fizzle a little. Like an opened can of coke left in the fridge for too long: you'd drink it if you were really thirsty.

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And then there's blogging - a constant reminder of how I am constantly changing my perspectives. Each time I read a past entry I squirm wishing I never thought that way. How close-minded. How judgmental. How ignorant.

Knowing now that the future me might not agree with what I think is kind of a depressing thought. (But I am not the depressed kind, clearly. I am merely judgmental and very mortal.)

Which is why I can't keep up with keeping blogs. I probably have dozens of cyberspace footprints in blogs everywhere but they will never see the light of day again. It belonged to the me who has retreated into the cave of the past. ( Its not meant to sound so emo, walao. But I type it as I think it.)

Maybe I need to type faster to keep up with myself. Hahar.

And this is not emo. I won't do it! Its not in fashion anymore, right.

(Actually I just read these blogs that my sister asked me to. One belonging to a cousin aged "beyond her years" as Eugene O'Neill would say, and the other owned by one of her grammatically unsound acquaintance (I don't really wanna say friend, given the way she talks about her.) Makes me wish I were never young.)

MY weekend is coming.