Water under the bridge. Like much of my past. Indeed, like all our past. Most times, one ignores it and moves on. Sometimes, one regards it from a distance and wonders why it was such a big deal. And rarely, one stares at it fixedly like in a trance, as if hypnotised by it, hoping that one doesn’t fall in if one holds one’s gaze for too long.
I may appear to ‘live the shallow life’ (as per the recent hashtags I have been using to have a little bit of fun at the expense of my own vanity) and seem calm on the surface, but do keep in mind that more often than not, still waters run deep.
