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.