Loading...

Saturday, 22 September 2018

Not living but surviving


The bus screeches to a stop. Its passengers momentarily lift their heads to check out what has just happened - nothing much; just a careless pedestrian who has just survived a potentially gruesome accident - and look right back down at the rectangular device that they all seem to have in their palms. The bus gradually moves off once again, as though nothing has happened.

I get off at my usual stop, put on my jockey cap and join the sea of uniformed men and women, marching (almost in perfect harmony) into the military camp.

0830. Everyone is seated, just in time for the daily morning brief. The same thing is being said every day, but it still has to be said. This is how things work - not just in here, but in the entire country. Any questions? No questions. We shake our heads in unison, signalling the start of another working day.

Phones ringing every couple of minutes. Officers typing away at their keyboards. Stacks of paper being thrown back and forth, and back and forth. Permission to carry on, sir! Carry on. Meetings after meetings. Canteen break. Officers typing away at their keyboards. Phones ringing every couple of minutes. Swear words flying across the ops floor.

The sun sets over the horizon as I glance out of the window, humming Wiz Khalifa's See You Again in my head. It is going to be a long ride home... but, my day is finally about to begin(!) Today, I will finally get down to writing something - anything - on my blog, to pursuing something that sets my heart on fire, once again. And perhaps, if times permits, I will resume that language course that I've put on hold for way too long. I look around me but no one in the bus seems to share my excitement - they are still glued to that rectangular device in their palms.

I unlock my house door - the only thing standing between me and my plans for the evening. I'm greeted by my cat, as she purrs at my feet. I pick her up and place her down gently beside me on the couch. I flip open my Macbook, ready to type away and let the inspiration flow. But... as soon as I type the first few words, my eyelids start getting heavier and heavier, as I come to realise that like yesterday, and the day before, I do not have the productive capacity to do anything else.

I open up yesterday's unfinished episode of Running Man, slouch to a comfortable position with my cat on my lap, and called it a day.

- Repeat story again, and again, and again until I retire. And then, (permanently) die. -

The End.

P.s. Let's hope that in Heaven, we can all finally start living, instead of just surviving.

No comments

Post a comment

© Melody Sim | All rights reserved.