I was! I am. I will be?

I am really busy at the moment. I feel everything get so mixed up that I have got myself stuck in the middle of a spider web, struggling for a way out. However, when I was talking this to Jyri, he made it seemed like such a simple problem that all I was worrying about was no more than a high school student facing a coming exam. Is that so? Am I still that naughty boy who will only get active before the deadline? I thought I have been growing, a lot. I thought I should have had a very sensible and mature mind as a 24-years-old. All those things I was telling him were those I thought I had a reasonable knowledge of, but it turned out to be frustrating. Have I really been growing? Well, certainly my height hasn't, but even my mind?

Just today, I got a mail from a friend. It was saying something about how he was falling in love with the totally run person. This really reminded me of how I used to be the same. Those might be heart breaking but they are such precious experience. I got a flash back of those old times and then I try to get a mirror to look into. I want look into my own eyes and ask: how much have you changed?

I sit back and put on some music. I am dong nothing but trying to think through myself. I want to write down a lot about what I was and what I am. However I feel lack of words or rather lack of idea to do so. But I don't how and where I get this feeling that I am no more than what I was. With years of experiencing in this sophisticate world, I have been developing. I have developed many shells to wrap me up tightly and safely. Those shells protect me. But they are selfish, arrogant, aggressive and short-sighted. I tired very hard to rip off those shells and to find out what is inside and I saw it. It is the person I was. Inside, I have never changed. I was going to share more about that person but one of my shells grew back and cut off my mind.

There was a short tale in the internet telling people the story of how a young boy was falling in love with wrong people and how he got his heart broken and how he recollected them back again bitterly. It was telling the story of how a young boy was viewing the world regardless to all the devils. It was telling the story of how a young boy was picturing the fantasy of his life. When the world shuts in the midnight, when the moonlight goes through the window, when the cigarette extinguishes in the ash tray, the music brings up my old memories. At this very moment, I know that: the one I was, the one I am.

Who will I be?