Crash
It's depressing to get my new bike scratched on the pedal and the handlebar grip. All because of an idiotic boy of around 12 years old. I was going at full speed on a cycle path when he swayed around like a drunkard into my path, leaving me with 10m to brake. (Of course, I couldn't) Crashed him in the end, got very slightly scratched in addition to the bike. The boy's father apologised but so what? They had made so many unforgivable mistakes. walking on a cycle path. Not walking straight. Not looking out for bikes. Walking on the right side of the lane. Being absolutely irresponsible.

And, some weeks ago, Singapore Amateur Cycling Association wrote to the forum page highlighting proper etiquette on cycle paths. But who cares? Does anyone here care? The self-centered majority? No. Yellow stripes outside of train doors, but do they really give way for alighting passengers? Ha! Stupid world. Positive change is never possible, if it involves public responsibility.

Stupid world. I'm gettign cynical. Life is going to continue being horrible, when these self-centered acts around you appear at every corner. It's hard to be happy. But life is all we have. And death is more futile than life.

- posted by K. C. @ 9:51 pm

 
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Death is a concept that human beings find infinitely hard to grasp. The very absence of life itself, one's one existence, is something that one can never imagine.

Yeah, I do try to drown out my thoughts. Music, the numerous MP3s. Alone or lonely, the thoughts take over.

No, not really thoughts, but emotions tangled with stray ideas from a feeble mind. Not very nice ones, some self-centered, some just freaky. It's hard to keep one's logic unadulterated from the emotional crap. It's not like logic can reconcile with one's emotions. It's just the way human minds are designed; human beings are emotional.

You know, it'd be so much easier if it all didn't happen. But tragedy doesn't wait, it strikes at whim, often below the belt, and there is no course of redress. It's permanent, and it's hard to accept. Everytime I try to convince myself that this might all have been a fucking huge case of mistaken identity, the logical part of my mind knows, without doubt, that it's all just a fantasy. Truth is, she's passed away.

It's hard to take it easy like the rest, when I've been in her parents' car, when I've touched her hand, when.... the floorball game when people are tied up into pairs, my birthday last year, those times just before the examinations when we turned to wish each other good luck, the highlighter I lent her and she offered to buy a new one for me, the many memories. It hurts. All these memories, once shared between the two of us, now left to me to bear alone.

The next time, when I do my Prelims, I won't be sitting next to her.

Her cheerful smile, her face, will never appear again on the corridors.

And why? We don't know; and I won't speculate. I dunno if she really wanted what she got, but it's still sad when someone actually is pushed to that course of action. I've been dangerously close enough.

Death isn't only the loss of a life; it makes everything else so trivial; school, good grades, et cetra, when the very existence of the human life is being challenged. And not everyone sees that. I wish they did.

Celebrate life, even if it's only because it's the cause of our very existence.
- posted by K. C. @ 8:44 pm