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Gone like the wind

Flipped through old photographs again, but it felt different. Different from how I used to feel when we were given assignments in primary school that required us to dig up old pictures of ourselves when we were younger.

“Yah, I still remember that. Can we go back there sometime again soon?”

“Eh, we had our lunch there last week right?”

And now I felt like a third party looking through all these old photographs. I wished I could go back to that point in time where I was blissful and heck care. And now, everything’s changed.

There’s no such thing as time set aside for afternoon naps. No one was as pure and innocent as we were 10 years back. There are problems after problems pervading the peace that I treasure so much now.

When was the last time you cried? What did you cry over?

As you recall back these moments, you start to think about what you used to bawl over when you were younger. Yes, it was over fickle things like the loss of toys, the refusal by parents to get you something. But right now, you cry, like Scout in TKM over the injustice (suffered by yourself though) that you face in your life.

Why must my CA1 card be smeared with As, Bs and Cs? Life is unfair; the cheaters can cheat their way through and get a 9 pointer. But hell no, I refuse to be like XX. It’s way overboard. Changing your answers AFTER getting back your paper and telling the teacher he marked wrongly, that’s plain absurd.

Why must God take away the lives of M, J, B & F, when they meant no harm to anyone? Why must He take them away so cruelly? Why did Mickey have to die an early, unexpected death?

The 8-year-old boy who died in the bus crash, wasn’t he yet another fine example of how God takes away the lives of the good whilst the bad ones, like the terrorists (such as MSK) are out alive and kicking in the outside world possibly planning to terrorize us? He was so young and perhaps that made him susceptible to such threats. But imagine, he could’ve been one of Singapore’s homegrown talents 20 years later. What a waste.

Perhaps 10 years later, I’ll be thinking I’m such a bitch for crying over such silly things.

Disillusioned. The world is literally crashing.

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