Drifting senses.
Sometimes i wonder, if i'd be the next one up. Life feels like a queue, and all this time, we're waiting for something. We may never live to see the end of the line, to reach what we've been waiting for. Everyone knows that, but we can't stop ourselves from getting in the queue, can we?
The queues we're in may be something we've been hoping for, maybe not. The queue to your dreams, to love, to understanding, or even as simple as a long-awaited birthday present. You may meet people during the queue, people with the same ideals, but maybe with different reasons. Most of the time, we don't, they are just figures, awaiting. The queue may be fast, it may be slow, sometimes people slip away from the queue, and you're nearer to the goal. Sometimes people cut it, and you're farther away. During moments like these, do you sometimes not realise yourself getting angry, or maybe passive and immune to it?
There are surprises, where the queue might be fogged up, and you suddenly find yourself at the front line, the next to receive what you've been waiting for. Yet, you might suddenly be the one lost in the fog, or the one slipping away, maybe even the one cutting in. To be a cut above the rest is almost like being at the front part of the queue to their so-called success and at the end line of despair. But afterall, what is winning?
I am in a queue, where my relatives are before me. Many have passed, yet i don't know where i stand. It's pretty uncertain whether or not i am really in the queue. I just have a feeling so. Dad had an operation. Then mom. Bro has an illness doctors can't put their finger on it. Then granny has her operation. As people slowly pass by that border, i wonder when mine will be. They are all alive, but am i that strong? Even being a bystander can break my heart apart. Could i actually stand the test? That is one queue in life i fear, not death, but pain in living.
