Last night, it hit me that I walked through the Zouk's Beatnik party, a gazillion pubs and the glory of Clarke Quay without ever once feeling a part of it. It didn't help that I was flanked by Seng and Yunsong, who (between them two) define young adulthood.
I can't decide if my life is stuck in the dormancy of a child, or sedateness of an old person. Whatever it is, I am not my age. I feel almost sorry for my friends who have to skip around the clubbing scene and other loud and young-adult championing activities to keep my company.
My life is interesting, and will always be, but my youth is a silence, my prime is a void.
(I have reverted to the bad habit of living for the future.)
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