We are no island, but I'd say I'm on the precipice of a peninsula, a panhandle even. Reclusion has stretched out into a lifestyle with all other connections at bay. I have amputated linkages that have caused more harm than good, much like those gangrene-infected limbs. Pruning my canopy so I can give my core a room to breathe. Everything I need right now, I have within reach -- both tangible and otherwise. I am happy. I am content - bar none. Whatever I find therapeutic is nobody else's beeswax. I need not seek validation from others thank you very much. Do achievements per se make us happy? Or is it the delayed gratification - the pronouncement of such achievements? Is it an absolute necessity to make everything known? People will wonder. Make them. Keeping this air of mystery as a safety net because one day, my daddy told me, I will make history.
I have made a profit from explaining too much (figuratively of course). Why not play reverse psychology this time: less talk = less chance of misinterpretation. Life's innate cruelty has given me resiliency much too strong for other's passive aggressive judgements to penetrate.
Some would sit together to gossip and exchange notes. I prefer to stay in my room and read. Focus is what keeps me in this game; work-school-family life balance keeping me afloat. Sounds like a fair life plan if you ask me. From here on, sightings of Ana Reynoso (excuse me while I refer to myself in 3rd person, I don't usually do this.
In any case a kind soul is wondering, I am good. Over and beyond. I am busy working in a reputable international research organisation by day and hustling to get good grades in graduate school by (late) afternoon. Although I am not sure if I can say the same thing about the latter after this semester. HA HA! Just kidding.