Generally I’m not one to cry over spilled milk but when I spill milk and the tears come, I know that something is wrong somewhere. Sometime in September, I travelled to the East with my family and one of my aunts gave me this special black soap mixture from Ghana which was supposed to clear the convention of pimples (acne is too pretty a word) on my face. So far, so good. I do not have porcelain smooth skin yet… but there is hope.
Or so I thought. I came home a few days ago to find the container of soap empty. Apparently, something had knocked it to the floor and my neighbor had picked it up, shut the jar and left it there for me to discover. I was about to take my bath. Well I did that and then went to my room and cried. Hard racking sobs came out from only God-knows-where, shaking me. After crying, I got dressed, put on some make-up and went to school.
I just knew that it wasn’t just soap. I knew it was something bigger. For the past few days, I have been really melancholic and it’s like life is flashing before my eyes. I’m on the bus that takes me to real life. I’m at my stop but I DO NOT want to get off.
I am losing all the excitement that comes with graduating. I am thinking about all the things I could have done better. I want to take more pictures. I mean, how on earth can somebody not be a picture person?
Once again, life is too damn short. Take more pictures. My last three posts have been about regrets. It’s all coming from this final year nonsense. The good thing is that I’m getting it out now. I will cry when I leave school but I wont be writing about it then.