out of the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks

so many things have happened to me this year. mostly positive. mostly gratifying. i've traveled, reached a few milestones, made new friends, made a "special" friend, but none has really made me enthusiastic to write. im technically on a vacation right now. unlike what most people do on vacations, i stay home, spend time cleaning and organizing stuff (like i previously mentioned) and in the process, get nostalgic from seeing old things. yeah, nostalgia is like my favorite feeling in the world. i've got plenty of time now and i cant write the way i do in the distant past. im no writer. most of my past blogs just show the 24-year-old me fan-girling, blogging about things as shallow as tv shows, movies, pop icons, crushes and obsessions more than bigger, more important events. i (the present me) cringe with the thought that i blogged about those but when i actually start reading, the fan girl in me which i thought has died a long time ago is somehow being resurrected (eh?). it's surprising to actually find myself smiling while reading my old posts, even the ones that i unpublished. perhaps those were the times when i was truly, overwhelmingly happy. even with the smallest things. now the question is, at present, with all of these bigger accomplishments i have made, why cant i write? am i truly happy?