It is 2.10am now, hello Good Friday. Listening to just few music from online streaming app. I don’t know why I am staring at this blank paper. All I know is that the songs are asking me to write something. To talk about something. Something that I used to write on my journals, on my notebooks back in time, long before the internet conquered me. Something I always share on just pen and paper, something about me, something about what I feel.
Actually this long weekend I am just planning to stay offline. To reflect and to have a quality time with family. But at 7pm, I can’t help but open my blackberry. Messages started to roll in: BBM, Twitter, Facebook, SMS notification and emails from work. I started to feel weird. I am a victim of connectivity, the downside part of it. I am dependent. This brought me back to the times when I just write my own journals on my spare notebook.
More than feeling this. I miss my ME time. My real definition of ME time. I noticed that a lot has changed. Sometimes I asks myself If I can still do things I used to do.
I cannot answer that.
I miss my relationship with people– those who afford and choose to call me when they have problems, I miss the people who give me advice even If I don’t ask for it. I miss the people who correct me, who argue with me on my strong points, who are brave to say I am wrong, people who’s not afraid of me, or intimidated with me. I don’t even know where did it came from. I miss friendly dates with no pretensions. Those late night conversation over coffee with just nothing but craziness. These people who don’t take advantage, who loves to be around me just because they say I am funny. I miss those people who also decided to be friends with me even offline. Who’s not afraid to ask me out. Who’s not afraid to compete with my schedule. I miss people who treat me special. I miss sharing myself to them.
I miss talking to people.
I know I am (terribly) busy at work. And my social life now at risk. But I am still grateful to people who ask me how am I doing. I appreciate them. People miss the fact that they can actually bargain to steal me. My time. They have no idea how much I love talking to people. But they’re not brave enough to ask. That I am sad.
I will start again. After this long break I will meet people again. No, not the people in events, or celebrity happenings. Sometimes I get tired of them. Tired of occasional showmanship, of lesser substance, of purely work and appearances. I will start calling again. Friends who stayed, including busy friends who get tired of waiting for me. I will start meeting them. And will schedule a cup of coffee be it a morning or an evening meet-ups. I will never miss the world again. Especially to those who matter.
I will spend time more on those who appreciates me. That’s is why I love people who keeps on knocking. Strangers but now my online and offline friends. I will spend my time with you. And I will even find a good time to laugh with you, cry with you, or look at how the crazy world with you. Together.