She's now in Australia. I don't feel anything. Under normal circumstances, if only normal was what I experienced growing up, I would've missed her. I guess, in a way, it is strangely inevitable, this void I'm feeling. For her and for myself.
I guess 'normal' is for those who are normal. But because the world around us were uniformly normal, we knew from the start that we were living in her world. Her world and this world is in the same world. But her world is her world. And this world is our world.
I am not particularly gifted in anything but I make do with what I have. I don't have the best luck in the world but I take in the bad ones in strides. I am neither adventurous nor rebellious but I go rogue whenever I can. This is my world from the perspective of you the subject of me the object. From my perspective, I'm at lost all the time. I don't know where to go or when to do anything I should other than the basic necessities. I am uncertain of my faith, my direction, my aspiration and my commitment.
I am clueless and stupid like that. But I know that I will hold on. Not holding on would be giving up and settling for less. Holding on is chasing the metaphorical rainbow (to get to the pot of metaphorical gold) until I can chase no more.