Time to ponder my epitaph...

I can't describe how i feel. Just weird. Disconnected. Displaced. Disoriented. Five weeks till I leave. Five weeks is such an awkward time. One part of me can't wait to leave. One part of me knows it has been too long. The other part of me feels a pang of longing.

Five weeks is too long for sappy good byes and farewell letters yet. Five weeks is too long to start packing.

Yet.

Five weeks is too short to start anew. Five weeks is too short to join new clubs or to take up new responsibilities. Five weeks is too short to foster and maintain new friendships.

Or maybe, i'm just stuck in the inertia of routine. Of my comfort group. My comfortable habits. And five weeks is too short and too long to break out of it.

When i look at the people i should have delve deeper with, I feel like it's too late now. I feel like the world is passing by me so quickly, yet all i can do is stand back and watch because its too late to join in. Yet it is too early to just walk away. I know im being vague, there are specific situations, I just don't want to deal with the technicalities of it right now. Not that it makes a difference anyway.

I will leave and life will be the same. For the people who met me, for the people who know me, and for the people that don't.

I feel a general sense of disappointment. With myself. And with situations. I wish I impacted someone here. But I didn't. And I'm disappointed with myself.

It has been a fulfilling learning experience. I met amazing people. And I love them to bits. But it is like waking up from a dream. You can't tell the people in the real world about your dream because they were not there with you. Yet, you can't go back into your dream and tell your "dream friends" about your real world. Very disconcerting experience.

Time does fly by so quickly. It is hard to summarize one year in a person's life. Just like how the Seasons of Love song goes:

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?

Yeah it has definately been a year of coffee chats, long dinners and wondering why don't they just convert to the metric system... much laughter, not much strife. I never really understood that song till today.

If we wrote an epitaph for each year we lived, what would it say? "Fun", "ok" or just "jolly good"?