The Sweet Scent of Rain

Just 2 months more, I will be 26.

As I look at the kids in my class today, their eager faces full of anticipation for the new life ahead of them, it suddenly dawn on me that I will never be able to share the same kind of fondness for things anymore. I feel like a candle burning away as the clock ticks, having the once many paths ahead vanishing one after another. And I am just being pushed forward to whatever that lies ahead of me.

I can't point out what but something has definitely gone amiss. Nothing really interest me any longer. Wherever I go, I feel out of place. Moments of happiness does not linger, and disappointments are prolonged. I should do something, but yet so far, nothing is bad enough for me to start on anything, nothing is good enough for me to love it either. The best way is to keep status quo.

Really, I shouldn't be making any complaints. Cuz I am blessed in a sense that even though Sire Life always makes things difficult, he also never fail to leave me with some form of hope and help. I would like to think that each disaster is actually a blessing in disguise. Things do turn around, and they could be far worse than I ever imagine.

The last time I feel a moment of serene is inside a restaurant tucked along one of the less busy streets in town. Slipping my cup of chamomile, listening to a friend speaks, and observing people on the street. I have already forgotten how I got through this busy term and what happened this morning, but I could still remember the sweet scent of after the rain that afternoon.