* if you chose to read this, i suggest you not to, as it's the worst piece of writing you would ever come across, beware that nothing makes sense, coz i did not look back at what i wrote. at all.
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time flows like a stream
you see faces, people shuffle past
but only a few of them do you grab hold of
others slips away, like memories, like the past, like the images in your head
knowing that you are 1 out of the 7 billion people on earth
how small and insignificant
suddenly you feel shrunk to the size of an ant looking up confused at the big bizarre world
you try to figure out why some people are the way they are,
why others do things that they do,
why only a few who actually seem like who they are.
all there is in front of you is blank space, empty air, unfilled vaccum,
nothing, nothing, and nothing.
suddenly my mind turns to another thought,
and another,
and another,
snippets of thoughts flicker here and there,
like looking the world through a kaleidoscope
different colours, shapes, senses
rushing all at once at me, at you,
sight, smell, hearing all momentarily blocked and blinded
life is like typing on the keyboard and forcing yourself not to backspace,
but only to keep pressing enter,
i was on the verge to deleting my last word, my last sentence, but i tell myself
keep going keep going
there are many people who spend minutes and hours doting the meaning of life
some truly believe they would arrive on some kind of conclusion
most are riduculed, looked on with contempt, as idle people with no aim in life
but perhaps everyone need such as moment,
a moment in life when you stop and think
ponder on the favourable memories which you store in a treasure box at the corner of your mind and heart
taking the jewels out now and then, examining, reflecting
or, the fears of the future come at you in a bold black question mark
your mind filled with 'What if's.
I turn on the TV, wanting to fill the empty space with some noise, signs of existence,
yet all i am faced with
are reports of child abuses by catholic priests,
politicians playing with their promises, a blind, easily fooled crowd
monetary tags on the environment, of the natural resources,
boats being flipped, hundreds of lives lost, time running out
while there, still, the men and women in suits and ties fail their job
bloodshed, war, though of another kind,
those lives, of newborns, children, adults, elderly all being snatched away in matter of seconds
while there, still they play their game, living in another world,
i turn on the TV, in search for some assurance, some comfort, that there is meaning in life
yet all it gives are blood and tears, depression, suicide, nuclear disasters,
what has this world come to?
And so i turn off the TV, and find a big black rectangle staring at me,
like a dark hole,
like a void,
a giant engulfing mouth of a monster,
the stiff face of a corpse
I listen to the stomps up the staircase resounding in the building
a door slams
a baby cries
a dog barks
a motorcycle screeching on the road as it does a 360 turn, bringing my heart to a stop
then the silence,
i put on my headphones,
and listen to the silence,
the sound of silence,
sounds serene, and almost an unique sound of its own
my eyes fluttered to the clock, dimly the outline of the clockhands point to a quarter past ten
never understanding how people can do without the time,
what if we live in a world where there is nothing such as the concept of time
where days, months, years do not matter
does it mean we cease to exist, that it does not matter either way how we live, whether we live altogether
is that the importance of time, to give us a sense of being
to keep us in our routines
sleep when dark
rise when it's day
our days split into distinct periods, distinct tasks,
perhaps that's it.
i feel the winter is sucking all the strength away from me,
all my blood,
the winds seeping through the tiny pores, finding their way, somehow, into me
then winding their way again out, leaving me as an empty nutshell,
without soul or feelings
first the fingers go numb
than the hand loses its function,
slowly spreading to the arms, until everthing below my shoulders feel like a different part of me, disjointed
unattached, torn away, useless and unimportant
my toes cease to exist, my legs slowly disapperaing, the thighs feel heavy on the chair, and finally,
only my body, the bulk, feels like it exist,
though without the other parts, dangles only in the air,
i can feel my neck, and something clamped against two sides of my head
yet my head does not feel like my head.
I can keep on conversing in this way forever, really,
the words I type makes its scrawl along the very bottom of the screen, only when i type more, the next row appears, giving me more space,
perhaps we should all live life like this,
take a step,
and another,
one by one, slow and steady,
only pressing 'enter', going to the next row, to the next place, to the next task, the next stage in life, when we are done with one.
one.
every minute, every moment count as one
I like it. :D
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