It’s thirty-two minutes to midnight and the star-less Singapore sky is as black as soot. Some are out, some lie at home in bed, some sit by their laptops, either working, sleeping, or simply relishing the start of the one-week school holiday.
All I hear is the soft whirl of the ceiling fan as I think up an internal timed capsule message, one that will never be recorded in any form. Its contents are simple, yet as long-winded and dramatic as it can get. To save you the trouble of reading and myself the bother of typing it out, I’ll sum it up in a sentence; ‘what are you going to do with your life?’
I’m not sure how often a thought of this sort flashes by in the everyday person, as it tends to happen to me as soon as the darkness and quiet strikes. I have little aspirations, dreams, or even cares. To top it off, I am incapable, not to mention incredibly lazy. But hey, a girl can dream.
Now there’s always that poetic train of thought every person who’s ever written a corny piece of prose thinks. When ten year old me’s dream to become a professional rock climber was dashed (we don’t have many rock climbing areas in Singapore) twelve year old me decided with great determination to be a writer.
That dream was also quickly eliminated when she submitted what she thought to be the funniest joke ever fashioned to Reader’s Digest, only to have sent it to the wrong email address and never heard of again.
And following that dream came many others, mainly originating from the assorted television series my mother, sister, and I would watch together. They spanned from the common ones such as the fearsome lawyer, the brave fire fighter and policewoman, to uncommon ones for girls my age such as the whimsical toy and game developer.
…All in all, I have no idea what I’m doing.
Time is limited. I, like many others, have dreams and aspirations, and only so much of my life to dedicate it to.
While I’m still deciding what I want with my life, you can be certain that I plan to make a huge splash the second I have. Scratch that, I’ll be making a tsunami. I’ll make a current so big that by the time I’m old and grey, I can spend my days happily yelling at the little kids and forcing sleeping youth to give me their seats without a care or regret in the world.
Because some time in the future at a dark hour like this, I’d have accomplished something.