Sometimes I feel the same ...

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It's like me meeting you people for the first time: I sit down with you in class like regular college students, my faded jeans and black rubber Ocean Pacific sandals new to wear, like me gazing around the hallways and familiarizing myself to your names and how you'd like to be called on the first day. I hear the sound of talking in the background, people laughing already acquainted with each other, I suspect, have already been friends since before enrollment. Lounging on the steps of the tattered linoleum stairway to the pre-war Arts and Sciences building with my Form-5 tucked neatly inside an eager folder of other documents. Eager, that is, to get going.

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I gaze around and say to myself, these are the people I'll be working with for the next 4 years, granted that, none of them would fail calculus or be bludgeoned to death in a fraternity hazing. Granted that, we would become friends in the first place and not get bored talking about communication with each other. Such is the weakpoint of most relationships: COMMUNICATION.

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We whip out our pagers and pocketbells, mobile phones were too "elite" back then. As kids funded by the government, we weren't supposed to be lavish. But of course, we weren't supposed to be KIDS.

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Who knew our group of 8 would last for 8 years? I can't even believe it's been that long. We're truly old. Loafers instead of sandals, insurance premiums instead of calculus, corporate slavery as the initiation rite, bosses instead of professors, laptops and cars over cellular phones, governemnt and kids, dreams acquiescing to reality, the boredom ...

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Sometimes it still feels the same. We can never really run out of words.

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