Be Careful What You Wish for

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR Drama practice. Revision. Homework. Writing essays which is what I am doing now So many things to do, so little while to actually do it. I am sprawled on my bed, along with my dictionary superficial with my pen, deep in thought. Throughtaboo that thousands of seconds I spent writing this essay, I of disco biscuit scrambled through the dictionary or Googled for word of honors that would put in in handy, composing this essay by scribbling word afterward word that was unreadable to everyone except myself.As my eyes darted to the untouched Chemistry homework collect in two twenty-four hourss, I rummaged through the strands of information that meandered at the patronage of my opinion, in the hope of finding the answers to the questions regarding the practicality of what I was doing why am I even writing this essay when I had other plans for today, want revise Chapter 2 of History. Sighing, I dropped my Carrera pen and clutched my iPod Nanowhich I b elieved would be the antidote to my chagrin. Then, I stuffed my earphones into my ears willing my fingers to trace the song that I desperately needed at that arcsecondTime by Hans Zimmer.I was immediately taken in by the mellifluous song, the tender flow dictating my muscles to relax, the abstract beauty of it sinking my hear into a trance. Completely oblivious to the sounds of the out spatial relation world, I stared blankly at the four alphabets displayed on the screen- T I M E. Time. That was when trueisation dawned on me. Its strange how time, woven into our daily lives, casts a huge entailment in every molecule of our macrocosm. It shows us no benignancy as it numbers our days, thus forcing us to endure the dull prospects of limitations, practicality and also the inability to maximise diversity and perfection at the same time.If only I could FEEL like I was divorced from time, savouring one moment to another, without having regrets or I could have moments. For instance, i f only I matte time held no sway over me, could I have kick-started my day with those Manchester United matches in the wee hours of certain mornings without wailing about the inadequacy of sleep? Or I could have aroused my book-worm taste buds by dwelling on that stack of untouched storybooks which I purchased during the Big spoiled Wolf Book Sale last category. Brushing the zig-zag thoughts off my mind, I flipped my iPod and gazed at the words engraved at the back of it-Live in remissionMy mind propelled me to the thought of what that line meant to me. limbo, as depicted in the characterization Inception, is an unconstructed dream space of raw infinite unconscious which is more real than reality itself. Every second in Limbo would palpate like an timeless existence, when in contrary, every second actually passes by with blinding speed. And when I meant Live in limbo, I was referring to it as a reminder to revel life and FEEL like I am in Limbo To FEEL that time really do es crawl so that I coffin nail revel in the assumption that time would ceaselessly be by my side like my Best Friend Forever, even when it is not.Right now, if I really was in Limbo, I wouldnt be fretting or whining about time constraints. How I deeply wish well that Limbo would be my reality. In that instant, I was transported into a seemingly endless and vast expanse of blankness, similar to that of being in an isolation tank. I knew where I was Limbo. It was now my world, my reality. I had the causation to create, filling my world with elements ranging from trees to buildings imagination was the only tool I needed. I was even capable of creating a personal aeroplane but what I wanted at that very moment was to FEEL like I had control over time.In a split second, I had become somebody who was born with an imaginary silver measureThe words silver clock symbolising time that passes by unhurriedly, the word imaginary referring to the fact that I only FEEL the seconds crawling pa ss and so it is only section of my imagination that time is not running out. I wasted no time in engineering my worldcopying and pasting flashes of my memories into my surreal world. My subconscious mind, on the other hand, automatically filled up my world with projections of wad I knew and never knew.My life went on as usual- going to school, attention drama practices, going for tuition, Face bookingBut the difference was the frizzle of conjury in it that of the fact that I didnt FEEL distressed, that I somehow held the key for doing anything I wanted as I matt-up time siding with me. I saw myself achieving goal after goal, consigned from oblivion that none of it was real that I was in Limbo, and it was all part of my imagination. The early days in me got sucked out as every second passed- Until I got aged and older and at the age of 28, I actually ran out of goals.I had a career, a house, a car that anyone would have dreamed of all of it cod to the grace of time being on my side. What else did I want after feeling like I had what I wanted and it seemed like an eternity had just whipped by? I wanted nothing any more. That was when my mind reeled into aimlessness, boredom, disheartenment. I had nothing else to do. However, even if I did, I would always feel time creeping by me, past me and somehow I would always achieve my goals, even if it was a mile apart from me. It was my world after all.I was bewitched by a spell on my mind indicating that time, for me would be like a space probe plummeting into the depths of the universe. As my mind free-fell into thought, unbelieving my well-beingI remembered. The memory came in thick and fast, like soulfulness flipping through the pages of a diary as one image popped out after another vividly in my mind That essay, that sixteen year old girl who had so many things to do. Where did all of that go? double-dyed(a) reality hit me like a 10. 0 magnitude earthquake I carried memories of twelve unreal years, I had g rown older in my own imagination.After that, I would have to battle a poison called aimlessness for the rest of my life. That was only because I wanted to FEEL that time passed by slowly. Now I bemoaned wishing Limbo was my reality. The fear that gripped me visceral, primal. The violent apprehension on my shoulders jolted my eyes open. It was my mum. I was sixteen and young. Only ten minutes had passed by since I was in Limbo. I would never wish that Limbo was my realitythe promise to FEEL that time was on my side was an impossible cross to bear. Next time, I will be wary what I wish for because it might be a poison that I would not be able to deal with. (1199 WORDS)