I am not exactly living a life of a loser as few of my previous posts seem to suggest. I do not spend my entire day working myself to death or emaciating myself until I go limp at the gym. Not infrequently do I stop and smell the flowers, or keep still and feel the blowing, cool February breeze as it caresses my droopy eyes that, I admit, badly need rest.
I can still appreciate (yes, I still can!) the goodness in others, the taste of my generously syrup-ed pancakes at breakfast, the scratchy sound of Gavin De Graw songs that emanate from my aging laptop, the taste of freshly served, piping-hot cappuccino, the beautiful view of Mandaluyong from my windows at night, or that person whose voice over the phone is enough to let me forget about the drudgery of daily existence.
I guess all I need is to slow down just a bit and reflect on what this long, unforgiving day truly means.
After all, I am still a lucky guy.