one whole year.

a friend i used to hang out all the time with told me that they've hardly seen me for over a year. he asked me what i was doing all those times when they voraciously claimed the weekends as their own after a week's worth of drudgery.

the answers that i could have came up with were as varied as the colors of longing and frustration. i could have spent that entire night describing in exquisite detail the conflagration that was the past year. i could have told him over bottles of that familiar poison how things that give you life also kill you bit by bit.

how could i tell him that i became a planet, residing in the cold edges of space, hoping in vain that the warm, comforting light of the sun will reach him? that darkness and daylight was defined with every step that sun takes in my sky? that the paths i tread always, always veer towards where the center of my universe is?

and how do i describe how the paths that i now take now drift away, taking me to unfamiliar places. taking me away from the people that i hold most dear. and now i see strange new faces that are less likely to be comfortable with the fact that chance has drawn us closer than we would have all liked...

nights have always been most vivid to me, that night was no exception. as much as i would have liked to stay, there were gestures that compel me to leave, to create a distance that could no longer be crossed. step by tiny step, the ties that bind are frayed, memories considered best forgotten. walking down the street that night was like walking down the street a year ago, when i had to hold everything down until i could get inside the deaf walls of my room.

so i told my friend not to worry, i will be hanging out with the gang again soon. there will be stories, yes. but trapped in the usual conventions brought about by loud music, nicotine and alcohol, perhaps the best i could come up with is that i've just

"been 'round."