Spiral of existence.

Years back when I had to write an English essay on life, I quoted Kurt Cobain’s ‘The finest day I ever had was when tomorrow never came.’ At the very moment where the meaning of the quote was so deep and strongly planted in me. A simple quote that somewhat gave me another meaning-  I’m disturbed.

When was I? 13 years old and I’m thinking about death. Even Islam taught you that death doesn’t matter of age. When my English teacher read the essay, he had to see me. I was absent for two weeks and by the time I came back, we had a very profound conversation about it. Silly young me, never thought people would actually care. But when he did, I felt as if he’s the angel, my guardian angel. Obviously, he started off by correcting my grammar then he asked about my family and finally about me. Quietly listening to what I have to say, he was there as a friend. Comfort me with his calm eyes; slowly I opened up on death. How I came close to it, my view of it, my longing for it.

Just when I tried giving up on people, whether they are family or friends, he came to my rescue. It’s probably ridiculous but he cared. Someone, a stranger, a teacher even, cared. And that’s all it takes. Care about others and you might save a life.

For once I thought life will be better. Because of people like him, I strive to the battle field. Fighting for love you may say. But after repeated battleships, you tend to outgrow the fight. Greed and power conquered. Love slowly fades. You grew thicker and devilish. Hunger for more bloodshed for your own desire. It’s disgusting when you think through. The person, no, the kind of puppet you’ve became. Drowned by the world’s need. Friends, at first you thought, ended up becoming your known enemies. Blinded and fooled.

Sparks of hope and trust are what I need but repeatedly failed at getting them.

Has it come the time for me to see tomorrow?