varying space
Yesterday was probably the first time in my life I skipped dinner and slept right into the morning. I don't know why, but I was really really really tired. I just dropped off to sleep after rubiah's and 4 pages of the form4 history textbook. >_< which means I have to do extra to cover up today.
How would I get myself through another day.....If I didn't have experiences to back me up I would already crumble under the pressure that forces itself on me. I hope feverently for tomorrow to come, and when it does, how would I get through this day in hope for the next, and the one after that? Resigned, I just let the currents take me. I don't care anymore. Wherever I may end up, I will learn something, and continue on. Day, after day, after day. Nothing seems to change, but there are little routine things that you keep in mind when waiting for it to fall in line so that the day can be labeled as 'another day'. Like the meows of the neighbour's cat, either in hunger, or in pleasure. Or the woeful whine of the dogs, neither tortured nor scared. Or the clanging of the school bell, ending one period and starting another. The colour of the clouds that read one's feelings right off a blank page. The stillness of the staircase that can either mean acension, or decension. The scratched parquet floors that give us sure footing in spite of our unbalanced selves.
There was a funeral in the next street. I heard the procession coming down the street, performed by a band. It sounded pretty jolly though. The band right up front, then the van carrying the coffin, then the steady stream of mourners. It passed right in front of my house, so I got a bird's eye view. Some were crying, others expressionless. Such a grand-scale funeral it was. Is it really the way a funeral should be? I would prefer a small quiet one. I'm sure nobody needs/wants to know that I have died. It happens day after day, reported in the news, in the newspapers, and we don't even blink an eye or skip a heartbeat. And I don't think I want tears to grace my day of death. I never liked it, so why send me off with the last thing I'd ever want? I'd rather peals of laughter and joy and mirth.
