Till It All Falls Apart.

Because we have one week.

'You shouldn't stop writing. You can see things others can't.'

Yeah, right. I'm seeing less if anything.

I have got less than half a month and yet I am sitting at my computer typing away mindless junk all of you are going to forget by tomorrow. But I guess since this seems pretty monumental to everyone, I should post something up about it.

I'm still recovering from the weight of my previous posts about the physics of time, because lord knows how my frequently absent mind managed to come up with so much garbage. That all of you believed. Just proves my theory that our psyche has been made so flexible it can be used to lead in the bodies of the powerful, and follow in the bodies of the weak.

Anyway.

It seems like yesterday that I had just finished what I imagine to be high school. Where we were allowed to be juvenile and naive because there was no excuse not to. We weren't in a rush to grow up and we embraced what was left of adolescence. We made friends just to have silly fights with them, and use words that we would not think of using otherwise.

And then we stepped up onto a higher pedestal. A higher pedestal of responsibility. Of bigger problems. Of real-life issues. It's a far cry from baby world I must say. Because 'I love you', doesn't just mean 'I love you' anymore. It means - let's go fuck each others' brains out, have children, name each of them after rock bands, and never tell our parents what we did'.

Sorry. A little bit of teen angst there.

I love you ... enough to care for you. But not enough to not talk to other girls. I used to love you that much but not anymore. I wish I could try, but trying is too hard.

Exactly. Now we actually have to mean what we say.

But with the burden of the consequences, we get a little bit more freedom. We aren't bound to the whims and fancies of our guardians, and some of us don't even need to rely on them for funds. Everything is our choice now, whether right or blatantly wrong.

And we form new relationships on an entirely different level. No longer do we meet people for the sake of it, or force on a smile just because of a mutual friend. And we don't just exchange contact details for homework. We create a life with them. A life of parties, breakfast, lunch and dinner, and perhaps a life away from home. It's all included in this package we call Growing Up.

Terms and conditions apply.

And it's now over. Expired. Past its deadline. Before our very eyes, 18 months walked right by us, without even bidding hello.

Maybe we had too much fun. Because time doesn't tend to appreciate happiness when it sees it. Instead, in a sick twist of madness, it speeds itself up, purposely depriving us of what we have come to know as our only escape from our depression. It takes our friends from us, and it brings our enemies closer. It makes our problems dense, and our solutions distant.

It makes us want to stop it.

So maybe my mentally - exhausting posts about time weren't such a bad idea after all. Somehow it opened up a dimension in my mind, from where I can now explain to all of you how and why we aren't allowed to experience happiness. That time is just doing the job of something else with a greater power than what we imagine. That it's better not to bring this up, for the can of worms that it will open, won't just have worms.

Or maybe it's making sure that we don't take everything for granted. Suddenly following a path of mercy, time wants us to know what is good for us and what isn't. And to truly miss the good times when they aren't here anymore when we are submerged in darkness again. But the last few days don't play in slow motion. It flies by you at jet speed, if anything.

I'm going to miss everything I have experienced these past 18 months. Going out after class for food and shopping. Trooping around all over the city, because we're bored out of our minds. Dozing off at the back of the car in between spurts of innocent gossip. Falling in love, falling out of love. Making friendships and breaking them. Trusting people out of temptation rather than instinct. Spending hours creating prophecies and philosophical arguments that are hardly substantial, but are worth the fun.

And watching time pass with the ones you love, the same ones you never admit it to.

So, there's a lesson learnt here. I just wish I knew what it is.

Cheers.