Memories, a schmaltzy and bathetic dish.

It was a fine Saturday morning when I woke up today.

A soft yellowish hue of sunlight shone through my windows amidst streaks of silver. The dust, bathed in the morning glow began to dance in my vision as I slowly rose to greet the day.

I remembered as the thought ran through my mind.

Hesitantly, my hand stretched and reached for it, I looked at the robust metallic chassis and peered into its eye, no sign.

Not at all.

The star within me fell, losing its life as it collapsed almost instantaneously to form a white dwarf.

My wish has once again been void.

Shooting stars don't exist. After all, they're logically incorrect.

To base our hopes and aspirations on pieces of frozen space rock fleeting across the space is absurd, even criminally insane.

So why do I still try?

______________________________________________________

I miss the good ol' days.

When every weekend, homework was little, and pretty easy to complete for that matter.

Exams only involve studying for them the night before, and a pass would be all but guaranteed.

Instead, what we have now is fear, panic, and anxiety on the imminent examinations as we fret over the smallest details.

What a depressing sight.

Where was the carefree scene we used to perform in?

I want to wake up and be able to watch morning cartoons like before.

I want to hear the beautiful orchestra playing the Batman intro, to air-guitar to the Justice League Unlimited opening's guitar rifts. To hum along to the tunes that of Totally Spies. (Yes, I do watch that show.)

And it would be perfect if you were by my side.

***

But ultimately, Where has that utopia gone to?

Life as I know has deteriorated to a mawkish and insipid emblem of bane.

Now, I waste my very existence away staring at the puny 17-inch screen despite knowing that my future depends on this few weeks.

Whatever ounce of confidence of myself that I used to possess has since faded to a state of evanescent.

What the forthcoming holds in store for me, I would never know. But I could at least guess the outcome.

Is it good, or bad?

Cliffhanger sucks, so I'll say that I'll put my chips on the latter.

In sooth, I know not what to do with my life.

So many thoughts are running through my mind now that my thinking is obscured by a cloud so thick and omnipresent, darker than any of the thunderstorms nature can create, denser than any nebulae the space can fathom.

My vision bleeds as the resounding desire for your presence grows. Every electronic signal acts as a tourniquet to my rupturing soul as the vibration ironically soothes my nerves and contracts the zygomaticus major.

Which is why I need you. But the reverse, nada.

In this state I am not awake.

I need to be.

However that, I do not want.

i laugh, yet I cry.