Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Happy birthday jasmin.

So all had a happy day, a sinful day of fun without books. All except me. Do you know how horrible it is to be so alone and not believe that there is a shred of laughter in me? I wish away so far, so that A Maths can't see me, touch me, glance at me. There is nothing for me there. It mince my words to clucks of irritation, pushing my face muscles together till such an extent that my eyebrows buckle and fold to form one single caterpillar thick brow.

Ice cream cake, playground, crashing someone's house, the sun, the swing - all elements of pure child-like fun. Pointless but so enjoyable. They were all enjoying it, but I was trapped in a decor-less white room. I was equipped with nothing but sheets of paper. Fiddling the pencil with my fingers, there is nothing to look forward to, for only dread looms ahead, overcasting the rest of my day.

May your turban to be stuffed with a year long supply of JAM, Jasmin aka turban head (the one who could not keep her brains from jumping out of her brain, thus needing a turban to restrain it.)

PS Forgive the lack of colours in this entry. I was not included in the colour-filled day.

Anonymous at 10:51 PM