The end of a long comatose-inducing semester

A part of my life is over. But what I can only do is to anticipate the next one.Well anyway, I plan to begin writing my novel today and hopefully, it will be finished by around 2020 or so... I have to make so many many revisions to the plot and fix the rut I got myself in while writing it.

I am currently going out of the house as many times as possible, bringing along a pen and some paper and just walking. I walk to get ideas, especially if I brought some bisyo along. I observe other people, curious about the trivialities they consume themselves with. Well, to me it may be nothing but if they think that what they are doing have some weight in this world then maybe, someday it will.

Now, I fully feel my mind functioning as it was bogged down by schoolwork these past 4 months. There's always the prospect of doom waiting at every corner of the classroom, as with the deadlines and requirements looming over you. I can't seem to assign a proper beginning to things, as I tend to notice myself always in the middle of things. But what I can sense is the end, the end is what matters to me the most. As it will bring about the justification of your efforts, either if you begun bad or good, the end will always count on you.

But there will always be the end of this sembreak. All I can do is to make sense of the transition from beginning to the end