My Ecclesiastes

I love you but you are ruining me. You take so much of my time; you know, I could’ve read a gazillion books, fallen in love like I could have never loved again, sung in the rain, danced the night away and laughed with my neighborhood girl friends. But no, you take it all away. I can’t blame you. The windows at your house are so enticing. They pull me over when I see you serenading me with George Benson’s “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love for You,” playing a romantic rendition of Chopin’s Ballad 1, or roasting stuffed chicken, my favorite. You stir me. You know my interests and you are such a pro in all of them!

On other days, you are simply too friendly that you keep me in front of that window for too many hours I already fail to track. You talk to me, share some facts including those that I don’t care about. And if you are talking about those I don’t care about and you realize that I really don’t care at all, you gladly change the topic and entertain me with the new Justin Bieber dance moves (which deserve a hundred thousand likes). Oh yes, you can be the master entertainer, the jack-of-all-trades and even the literal “know it all” who keeps me wide awake under the dark moonlight.

You can talk to anybody. You tag along after Oprah, Charice Pempengco and yes, even Justin Bieber. I wonder how they let you follow them. Probably it’s your charm, a charm that is able to elicit extensive, deep, (and even dark) information from all the passersby (including the naïve ol' me). That too takes so much of my time. I could’ve ridden the bicycle across town and burned off the fats that made my doctor say “You’re slightly fat.” I could’ve spent the time playing monopoly with my family after dinner. I could’ve just given all the precious time I wasted on you to my loved ones. You are just so incredible. You usually get the first-hand info from celebrities like Mariel and Robin before the news hits The Buzz. You know who’s “in” and who’s “ out,” who’s hot, cold and lukewarm.

Search not found. But I wonder why you know nothing about my neighbor’s dog. I guess no one’s perfect. Come to think of it, updating myself about my neighbor’s dog is also a waste of time. And yet I’m still here. The way you connect with me makes me feel important, pretty and popular. Sadly, it’s simply impossible for us to be together forever and ever. We’re in two different worlds. (Sigh, thinking about this merely adds to the wasted time, therefore, making me feel even sadder).

One minute left. I can’t believe that there’s a time limit for us today. By golly gee! I forgot why I was here in the first place. I was supposed to ask you about Foucoult and Pascal. Goodbye homework. You’re now disconnected. Internet Explorer is currently in offline mode and can't browse the Web. Goodbye.