last post as a fourteen year old — not going to be obtusely pretentious this time. here’s a picture of the skyline that traces the peripheries of my happiest memories. there is so much i have moulded in this past year and so much i want to demolish. clock’s ticking — thirty one minutes. i feel oddly insipid this time round — my heart has slowed down to the tempo of my grandmother’s strained footsteps; to the distracting soft grumbles my brother makes when he dies in a game. clock’s ticking — twenty seven minutes. my eyelids are fluttering, threatening to shut, to the rhythm of my grandfather’s hurried breath whenever i’m running late for school; to the hastened scratches of my baby brother’s pencil on his worksheets. clock’s ticking — twenty five minutes. i can feel the searing heat resonating under the railways of my skin — like my mother’s warm tears on my cheek when i tell her i’m not good enough; when my dad holds up one of my certificates and smiles a smile warmer than the coasts of a thousand tropical beaches. clock’s ticking — twenty three minutes. my heart starts to swell and soften. i think about you guys; not even the horizon between the grandest mountainous vistas and the azure heavens can contain how grateful i am for you. i’m fading into inevitable slumber now. tomorrow will be like any other. a genesis of a new day, a better epoch. ok bye.
memorandum for later
