Mission

I picked the same bag that I had brought the school on the previous day. Perhaps studying could take things off the mind. On the way out, I thought the library would be a great destination, for I had planned for ages to get some investment related book off their shelves. But when I faced the entrance of the library, I finally convince myself to put an end to the miserable deception.

Perhaps I need to embark on my mission. And so I headed six levels up the building instead, one storey beneath the rooftop. I exit the lift and turned into the small corridor. It was 7pm. The echoes were faint. I pushed open the glass door and two ladies greeted me. "How many of you?" asked the lady in black coat. "Erm... only one, myself." Even though I had set out to spend, I still took the cheaper option of the seat in the hall. As I picked up the wireless mic, I finally felt good.

And there at the Party World I ran a marathon of solo singing for 5 hours and 15 minutes almost non-stop. I started with a raw voice, to a opened up one, to a sore one, and finally to a point I could sing nicely without going through too much at the throat. It really felt great, especially when passerbys occaionally stood behind me until I finish that very song they were appreciating. Some clapped, some stood around to watch quietly after their toilet visit, some stayed a while before leaving the lounge, some took the seat opposite mine, and some asked me the title of the song that I have sung. At the end of the 5 hours, I realised my body to be trembling from weariness. But the experience was simply fantastic. I have heard of how A*mei collapsed from weariness after a complete exertion of energy at the end of the encore in her concert. I learnt that it could be so true.

12.15am, I walked out onto the same street in the opposite direction that I came from, only this time it was dark and the path stood hardly any but a few souls. Like an effect of a medication that wore off, the unwelcomed mood struck me yet again. I heaved a deep heavy sigh, which so obviously declared my throat a sored one.

Linger

How do suicidal thoughts come about? While every mother's son is bestowed with one life, be it long or short, sometimes it would seem justified to have Armageddon take place at that very moment to rip everyone off the right to live (if I decide not to exist anymore). Depression is a tool so powerful that it will momentarily brainwash rationality off a mind. Should I one day develop such thoughts, I will gather every last bit of my rationality and tell myself, "I must spend and utilise every single cent left in my savings before I succumb to that hellish idea. " I will indulge in the most lavish spending, shop with extravagance, and dine in luxurious places that serve the finest delicacies. When the last cent has been expanded, then it would be time to execute the mission, but only if I do not hesitate lingering in this world anymore longer after tasting the finest in life. If I should decide that this bloody world is still worth lingering, I would already have bought myself a second life.