Tomorrow

Life is absolutely turning horrible as each second passes away in anticipation. I wonder what people awaiting death think of, but I can imagine. Their whole life would be flashing in front of their eyes, all their mistakes and all those nitty gritty moments that they thoroughly enjoyed.

I wonder what the difference between me and those people is. I’m thinking about all the things I have done; all the mistakes I’ve made…and regret. But yes, there is a difference. I can also think of a future in a dual beam. One of these beams where my mind naturally inclines toward is the compelling rage of serenity followed by a life of chaos, of uncertainty and absolute dejection. The other is, however, rosy. Despite it’s good nature, there is something wrong with it, I feel. I dream of all those things that my life has dreamt of achieving in the last few months. I can vicariously transport myself into the life of another – a person walking down on a road leading to the academic block at SSE. The person who later, after attending an intriguing Calculus class, goes on and takes a dive at the cappuccino bar at Gloria Jeans. I wonder if one day, that person would be me.

The problem with thinking all of the ‘good stuff’ is that it doesn’t put a smile on my face. It fails to ignite me. It fails to latch me onto the banter of a glorious upcoming. Instead, it makes me cry. It kills every time I think about it. Perhaps, it’s not a dream people aspire towards because they have greater goals. But one thing I have ended up realising from all this traumatic experience is that a dream, no matter how small or big, is still a ‘dream’ and there is a lucid impossibility factor that makes it what it is – a ‘dream’.

However, no matter how I think, it will be insignificant tomorrow. Either I am going to bask in some form of self-constructed and returned glory, or it will be the final nail in the coffin of shame. Otherwise, it will be a world on fire. Where my eyes would lose the capacity to discern. Where the people around me will no longer matter. Where everything will be lost. What a strange thing this is – you see, now I know why JK Rowling incepted a creature called the ‘Dementor’, the ‘happiness absorber’, the creature that sucks everything good out from you. I feel that these conditions are no different.

I have to brace what is coming for me. And I feel like I have all the time to do that, but I won’t like to think this way at all. I want to get this over with; I want to live; I want to live without any kind of fear of the future. Sadly, fear doesn’t always come with your permission. It’s something I’ve grown to accept as integral – a beast that whips me across a narrow tunnel, beating me to death, but knowing that with every time he hits, I grow stronger.

Tomorrow approaches, my friends. You can live your life the way you live it right now or you can change it. I envy all of you at this moment, because I cannot change anything now.

My College Essay – A tale I’d rather forget.

Today, I am going to reveal to whoever that reads my blog a ‘treasure’ I had kept to myself for a long time. My college essay is not really a ‘good college essay’ so may be you should not really look to seek inspiration from it. It’s a personal essay expressed in what many would say – an ‘impersonal manner’. Nonetheless, it reminds of how once I used to harbour dreams of studying in an American Liberal Arts College. Those dreams, albeit remain in tatters, still remind me of how beautiful and tense and exciting this phase in life can actually be. Now that I’m on a gap year, I crave for such things again but perhaps I won’t fulfil the urge this time – too many ‘No’s’ have I bore; not anymore.

WALKING THROUGH LIFE

Yes we live, but how many of us are consciously aware of it? Too often we are caught in the flow of routine; at any given instant, maybe right now, before you know it, this river of life may abruptly end into a black ocean. How do you stop the roar of the waves and listen to the voice inside your head, then? How do you hack your identity and give it meaning? Some write; some travel; I choose to walk.

Continue reading “My College Essay – A tale I’d rather forget.”