Have I changed?

I mean, for real, changed completely. For better or for worse, I feel as if I have changed, and am no longer the same as I was in secondary school, let alone the beginning of the year. There's just something different about myself, I can't place a finger on it, that disturbs me deep down because it prove me to be the hypocrit I really am.

I don't know, who really knows whether they've changed unless others tell them right? And so I've been told by my mom, and no it was not good. Needless to say the conversation degenerated into another fight, and left two hearts broken and battered. I don't intentionally want to defy her, and yet honestly I willingly do defy her. Semantics of course, but semantics that make a world of difference to me.

So seriously, as I look back on what I've done this past year, it seems as if nothing has changed on the surface. But as mentioned before, something somewhere deep down inside still tugs and pulls at my conscience, as if it's trying to draw my attention to something graver and despicable.

The lightheartedness of my current disposition is perhaps the biggest lie of them all.

To every beginning there is an end, no matter how impossible it may seem. Just as well to every end should bring with it a new beginning, the new learning from the old. If you're given a second chance, don't squander it because you never know how long it is till such an opportunity arises again. Most people don't realize their second chance till it has hit them in the face and left, which sadly still remains a problem for most.

Hiding behind words and a computer, it's easy to forget what it truly takes to know somebody, talk to somebody. In this age of high-speed internet access and anonymity its all too easy to forget the basics. Rambling and listlessness become favourite pastimes, and the driven are helpless to fight against the tide of inaction that sweeps them away.

So we are all left with a choice: live out the remainder of our days in this mechanical, faceless fashion, or dare to be different. Even the common man would know the right choice. The sad irony of this however is that in daring to be different we are just like everyone else who desires as much. We've reached a rather sobering stage where the advent of new ways of life have all but faded, leaving in its wake pretenders, those who conform to the stereotype of non-conformity.

Is it wrong to be such people? There is no judgement that can be passed because there has been no such event to draw lessons from. We live each day oblivious to such conformity and ignorant of its consequences, till one day it consumes us entirely, and we are disposed of like carcasses to the crows, undefended and vulnerable. We remain entranced and captivated by the allure of familiarity that we fail to see the change that happens around us. And soon, just like our fathers and theirs before them we are relegated to the junkpile of history.