Complications of existence.

Yesterday

First hint of daylight, I woke up furiously. With the engine roared to life and accelerating inside me, I jumped down from my bed and whacked the alarm clocked into a billion pieces. There the mist eventually scattered off.

Without much thought, I bumped against the cupboard and sucked 2 jerseys and a pants out. Hurriedly ever I ran down the stairs five steps in one, I changed my outfits quickest I could. The vitamins invaded my veins as the sunlight poured over me thoroughly. A cup of coffee was too aromatic to be included in my breakfast, and the smell of it simply woke me up to full consciousness.

I washed the cup without looking at it. The sun was welcoming. I'd rather go out and jump around with the very-most humiliating manner. But I behaved well and jumped onto my bicycle after closing the front door. I flied on the streets to his house.

*fast-forward*

Sweaty heads, one by one counted on each of every single one of us on the court. The clouds were uneven. We started murmured among five of us, and later we went to a place where people would most probably shout to the, most preferably known as 'waiters', 'cooks' or... Morning sounds, that interrupting.

Roti tisu, you MUST NOT wipe your oily mouths with tissue as it already was.

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Later we guys decided on 'Knowing'; seriously, did I look below thirteen? I gasped and glared with all my might when that typical receptionist looked at me doubtfully.

And, I bought sushi. Not much but it cost severely.

The man teared the tickets and we entered and swaggered along the way into the freezing hall 4. The commercials had ended as we entered. We sat and concentrated in two hours, but some murmurs can't be avoided. I tried best to ignore some un-silent-ed phone calls few paces behind me. The show's ended. Great.

If it were to knock our earth that simple, WHY AM I EXISTING.

Well, every single one of us does exist for a respective reason. We don't get to deny, but mostly we find hard to search for the reason of existence. Of ourselves, we do not especially know, though.

WHY AM I EXISTING? It appeared to be a nonstop repetition lurching forth and back in the very core of my mind without any single sign of halt. If I were back into months ago, maybe I would have the ability to make my existence more valuable, or reasonable. Though time won't rewind. It lures my anger with this very proven statement which irritate my space of thinking all the time I tried so hard, so hard to concentrate, but it always seemed totally useless.

I'd had a prophecy of my own. The inky future forever blinded by thick fog. I do not know where I'm going to.

WHY AM I EXISTING? I could never, never find an arch on the way along with this irritating repetition deep inside my skull. I'd never regain any fluidity to my movement. I was numb by the deadly prophecy and my very presence among thousands, millions and billions of populations on anywhere else on Earth.

WHY AM I EXISTING? I would have been to tired and eventually dizzy. I stumbled on ground. Thousands of deep, severe slashes and cuts turn more vivid than I could have imagined. My organs were burned. I, myself was burned, in flames, even though I still, yet, do not know whether how deep the flame could direct into the degrees of my weak, fragile body.

WHY AM I EXISTING? Even though, even though, all people in this world do not even care whether to look at me with the most awful glance, after all.

WHY AM I EXISTING? I am definitely mad, by right. What am I supposed to do. God, why did You create me. I am no more than a bucket of overfilled sand: as the bucket burst into cracks on its feature, the sand would puncture through the holes, and finally back to the beach, to its origin. Am I supposed to end up in such way too? Every brain cell of mine had insisted so. My contents were absolutely overfilled right now, my skin is just what I'm acting so far, the contents start to spill, eventually, I'd lost everything, in me, or out of me, or whatever it is, it does not make a difference, anymore.

WHY AM I EXISTING? I sigh as the last drop of my contents turn into flashy fluid that evaporate up high. And when I saw them gather, mix, reflect perfectly at the angle where the heavenly light God shows to me as a sign of the very end. I could barely feel my breath that starts to become more, and more, inaudible.

WHY AM I REALLY EXISTING?? I demand an answer for it, even the very single grubby part of myself scatters about the pestilential atmosphere, surrounding my rotting figure second by second.

I don't function anymore. I could not move. I lie helplessly on the smooth ground. It turns to water and hurricane comes by.

I close my eyes. Even the last interval of my inhale and exhale still gasp the way they always did in the past, I am still pretending as if nothing had happened. I could not find anymore feelings that could have been worse than this, ever.

I was flushed down the deep, deep typhoon of hurricanes into every single part of my nerves. The end of world like in 'Knowing', as long as that, I could also direct a movie about, the end of myself, in me.

I could not find any defined answer for that question anymore. Because, I'm not existing anymore, finally accomplished what I've really begging for.

Beneath the deepest part of the ocean, the hurricanes calmed. But I did not resurface. Because my will, my mind had forbidden me to breath anymore.

WHY AM I EXISTING? I don't know. And I don't especially understand what am I.

My eyes closed. My breathing and pulse stopped right by the second I could not realise, at all.

Who knows? God might, I was finally free from the long train of thoughts. Yes, I do exist when another pair of Adam and Eve start another whole new world for me.