Sometimes, (and yesterday just happened to be one of that sometimes) I wonder. Why is it that I choose not to be normal. Why is it that I can’t be the usual run-off-the-mill kind of guy, just like any other out there. Just someone normal, who wants to have a stable job with a stable income, a loving companion who is supportive. A roof to call their own, with little replicas of themselves to call their own.

Why is it that I am just the opposite. Why is it that right now, I’m only interested in travelling? Of wanting to see the world, experience different cultures, sample different cuisines. This present triat of mine has it’s detrimental side-effects which tends to spill over, not just over the work aspects, but over the companionship aspects too. A companion is always welcome, naturally, but a travel companion would be welcomed with open arms.

Somehow, it seems to me that this issue has surfaced before. Just as history has a knack for repeating itself, I won’t be surprised if this would resurface again. Only thing is, when?

I think I just needed to vent my frustrations.

Feels slightly better …