Internet addiction

2 months passed by since I made the decision to cut away from the internet, but I never really did. I believe that I’ve reached a point where I can’t completely change anymore. I cannot throw away what I don’t like about myself, because they exist to accentuate the part that I like. Without the latter, there’d be no former. I’ve come to accept the fact that I will not be able to stop dancing. Nor will I be able to stop wanting a girlfriend who’s a competitive dancer like me. No, dancing can never be a sport. Not when it is meant for two people of the opposite sex. A couple can never reach the true meaning of dancing without the sexual tension and chemistry.

What then should I do? If my lifestyle does not allow it? Does any lifestyle allows it? To be success in one means sacrifice in the other. A dancer’s lifespan ends at 30. After that, if you are not good yet, you’ll never be good… But a buisness career, carries over to 60. Both requires the person to give it everything in the twenties.

There are reasons to aim for either one , with unfroseeable outcomes. The choosing though is not related to the choice at all, but rather, the environment surrounding it. People and place. Ever since I graduated, I’ve been asking myself this question. Am I more of a dancer? Or am I more of an engineer? I wonder no more, for I am both. Being an engineer is what I wished for, but now that I am. I know that simply being an engineer is not enough for me. The passion for dancing, the desire to move takes over, whenever the music turns on. It singes the flesh that envelops the steel prsion encaging my heart. But have I made the right choice? Leaving everything behind and coming here, to work like a robot. In the harshest possible environment? Yes. Am I crazy? Maybe.

Depends on which standard you base craziness on. Here, it is the norm. Without coming here, I cannot have realized what I really wanted. I’d take everything for granted. I’d live in happiness, but still be sad.

A friend of mine that I’ve know for the past 7 months told me that he admires me… that there’s a confidence in me, a belief in myself that I can achieve what I want. Even in failure, I failed with confidence. But he is puzzled at what I am looking at, when my gaze seems to reach out, into a faraway place.

Perhaps, the search for an equal…

Yes, I am back, but it is not me anymore.