The state I am in
There was a pregnant pause before he said ok
Now I spend my days turning tables round in Marks & Spencers
They don't seem to mind
I gave myself to sin
I gave myself to providence
And I've been there and back again
The state that I am in
Oh love of mine, would you condescend to help me
Cause I'm stupid and blind
Desperation is the devil's work, it is the folly of a boy's empty mind
Now I'm feeling dangerous, riding on city buses for a hobby is sad
Lead me to a living end
Now I spend my days turning tables round in Marks & Spencers
They don't seem to mind
I gave myself to sin
I gave myself to providence
And I've been there and back again
The state that I am in
Oh love of mine, would you condescend to help me
Cause I'm stupid and blind
Desperation is the devil's work, it is the folly of a boy's empty mind
Now I'm feeling dangerous, riding on city buses for a hobby is sad
Lead me to a living end
********
Nobody ever promised me an easy life. But nobody warned me about growing up either.
Growing up is not growing old. I can help prevent myself from getting jaded and world-weary.
But I cannot do anything to stop myself from learning the lessons that are laid so bare before me.
That is growing up.
I played with friends along the corridor when I was young, never had we imagined where we'd be in 10, 20 years time. He had wanted to be a doctor. He probably is now. I only wanted his MASK Gator which was going for $19.90 at the toy shop situated 5 minutes away. Dusty Hayes and his "Backlash" power was so cool. Ahead of my time.
I didn't even ask mum if I could have the money for it because I knew what she would say. Something about studying hard so that I can afford them for myself later. I think I can buy about a dozen of those now and have more than enough for 3 square meals a day.
The toy shop is still 5 minutes away.
But I can't find MASK Gator anywhere in the shop now.
Time has an impossibly magical effect in that time can shrink the memories that we have and magnify the world we live in. As I grew older, the world grew smaller then it started growing bigger and now the world I live in stretches across multiple time-zones. The things I grew up with, the places, the faces and other familiarities, the memories of them dilute with time.
Yet revisiting all these things fail to cheer a disconsolate heart.
With nothing concrete to hold onto and nobody constant to hold me down, it is easy to get lost in a world where memories count for not very much, and grows at an alarming rate. Although time-zones do merge into a giant networked masquerade party but the party never ends and masks are seldom shed. Nobody actually arrives and you can't keep track who has left.
Years fade by and you stop looking back to see what you've done. Instead, you look ahead eagerly, a little apprehensive perhaps, of what you might lose. You worry about that chance you might have let slipped by while the ice in your tea melts. Nevermind not being able to enjoy the sunset, there is always another one tomorrow. You just can't stop thinking ahead. You know you can be just as happy seeing a photo of a sunset. Nobody needs to be there to experience one.
You stop growing up and start growing old.
The colours that painted the world before you fades to grey. You console yourself by saying you always preferred the world in shades of grey anyway. You don't think you've degenerated. You've only changed.
I hope I can find a time for myself when I can no longer worry about a future perfect. The present will be pleasant enough for me to remember fondly come the next moment.
That I can feel happy with just the sensation of being warmed up by the sun after sitting in a terribly cold room. That I can smile because I am freshened up by the cool air after a thunderstorm. That I will appreciate the little things that occur not because I can control it but because I did not take them for granted.
Then I will never grow old.
Growing up is not growing old. I can help prevent myself from getting jaded and world-weary.
But I cannot do anything to stop myself from learning the lessons that are laid so bare before me.
That is growing up.
I played with friends along the corridor when I was young, never had we imagined where we'd be in 10, 20 years time. He had wanted to be a doctor. He probably is now. I only wanted his MASK Gator which was going for $19.90 at the toy shop situated 5 minutes away. Dusty Hayes and his "Backlash" power was so cool. Ahead of my time.
I didn't even ask mum if I could have the money for it because I knew what she would say. Something about studying hard so that I can afford them for myself later. I think I can buy about a dozen of those now and have more than enough for 3 square meals a day.
The toy shop is still 5 minutes away.
But I can't find MASK Gator anywhere in the shop now.
Time has an impossibly magical effect in that time can shrink the memories that we have and magnify the world we live in. As I grew older, the world grew smaller then it started growing bigger and now the world I live in stretches across multiple time-zones. The things I grew up with, the places, the faces and other familiarities, the memories of them dilute with time.
Yet revisiting all these things fail to cheer a disconsolate heart.
With nothing concrete to hold onto and nobody constant to hold me down, it is easy to get lost in a world where memories count for not very much, and grows at an alarming rate. Although time-zones do merge into a giant networked masquerade party but the party never ends and masks are seldom shed. Nobody actually arrives and you can't keep track who has left.
Years fade by and you stop looking back to see what you've done. Instead, you look ahead eagerly, a little apprehensive perhaps, of what you might lose. You worry about that chance you might have let slipped by while the ice in your tea melts. Nevermind not being able to enjoy the sunset, there is always another one tomorrow. You just can't stop thinking ahead. You know you can be just as happy seeing a photo of a sunset. Nobody needs to be there to experience one.
You stop growing up and start growing old.
The colours that painted the world before you fades to grey. You console yourself by saying you always preferred the world in shades of grey anyway. You don't think you've degenerated. You've only changed.
I hope I can find a time for myself when I can no longer worry about a future perfect. The present will be pleasant enough for me to remember fondly come the next moment.
That I can feel happy with just the sensation of being warmed up by the sun after sitting in a terribly cold room. That I can smile because I am freshened up by the cool air after a thunderstorm. That I will appreciate the little things that occur not because I can control it but because I did not take them for granted.
Then I will never grow old.
4 comments:
well written. i enjoyed reading it. second career?
thanks. it was easy to write. i think i should keep my sentences simpler and shorter.
second career as a what?
big words impress, but might turn some readers off - got to check the dictionary.
professional writer?
There is a conflict. Sometimes to keep sentences short, I have to use a less common word to replace a string of words. I shall start to write in shorter sentences first. Then proceed to simpler ones.
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