2001-10-14 - 11:16 p.m.
Another forgettable day;
Like the others,
Hackneyed nuances, packaged smiles, withering attention on hold.
There is much to be missed in this mindless routine,
To indulge in the luxury of time,
Relish the subtle gestures of consciousness.
Rushing to places,
Going nowhere.
As if stuck on the seventh-and-half storey,
A chimeric yearning for the bizarre mundaneness.
It alarms me that I can almost feel my senses petering off,
Desensitised, callously negligent.
Repeatedly mull over repetitious events
Yet reach no certainty.
My memory of the lonely magnolia tree,
Reduced to washed-out grey.
Why haven't I marvelled at the pink sakuras or pointed to the constellations,
And why don't the brilliant hues in the 6-ish skies fascinate me anymore?
Have more important things taken over,
Has the novelty finally worn off; Can it ever?
Pinch me and wake me.
