I eat and eat and eat; I eat like a fat pig. Sometimes I feel guilty but people assume I won’t put on weight. I’ve started to love eating and sleeping which I think are time consuming. I’ve learnt to enjoy myself at least more than before. It’s all about happiness these few weeks.
I like this relaxing lifestyle, so much better as compared to the previous one. I meet good people who smile politely and offer so much helps around. I mix with weird people, who consistently create laughers to the group. I’ve good friends who come to me frequently to check me out. I like this innocent batch of people, so childish yet adorable. I hope these moments could be prolonged.
I’m enjoying not because things are better than before, but I start to look at the brighter side. I pick up new things everyday, emerging to be a more confident man. I increase my level of toleration, for the sake of kind souls.
I feel so happy each day, so satisfied with my life. But somehow, something’s missing.