Five years is a long time. Day by day, nothing really changes. Year by year, however, everything does, even the things you didn't necessarily want changed. But that's the thing about change, you see. It happens. It happens, irrespective of whether you're actively searching for it or not. It happens, when you least expect it, could be on a sunny Saturday afternoon in May or a harsh winter night in December. It happens, slower than the speed of sound, faster than the bubbles on this lava lamp that's been sitting abandoned in my room for the past five years.
Five years. It's a long time. Longer than the general American presidency. More real than the answer to the "where do you see yourself in x years?" question. Five years, you think they go by in the blink of an eye, except for when you come back home to your room, to your never ending time machine. Because then, five years translates to more memories, more hopes set aside, more dreams come true. Dreams that you never thought possible back then especially if it meant them sleeping next to you on a slightly lower hideaway bed. Dreams that are written down on a scented diary that you no longer use. Dreams adorned by one too many silver linings.
Five years. It's a lot of words too. Lots of words said, lots of words written. Words said in anger, happiness, love, and sometimes even sadness. Words written in a language often misunderstood. Words I needed to spit out, often incoherently. Words. Too many of them. Five years worth in fact. Five years. Five years of this. Five years of Life Unplugged.
Thank you for tuning in.