and then..

It's sobering when morality hits, a sense of vulnerablilty that grips the heart like the figuartive slap across the face people claim to feel when they suddenly see the error of their ways, that they have been most embarrassingly in the wrong. Except this time, it's morality that has risen the hand, so the slap doesn't smack [pun unintended] of judgements; there is nothing to be critical about morality.

It comes in the form of audio waves; invisible vibrating particles that the ear drum recives and the brain registers as a double beep. Surely evenone knows the message tone of a nokia phone. Maybe you have one. well flip it open and read the message.

Morality shoves you.
You'd stagger across the room if you can, but the staffroom looks unkindly on such antics. Not having been hit with the same dose of morality, it still. judges.
To what end? Again, Tuesdays with Morrie comes to mind.

Blare the trumpets, heralers, burst thy lungs. Unfurl the flag, ye knights, let it be known that our nicklaus is hospitalised. Prepare the saddles, rouse the calvery. Make haste to NUH/

Light the lamps, cleanse the lips with coal. Don the priestly garments, kneel and interceed.

___________________________________

And a day passes, and nick has been discharged from hospital.

But I think on. If I were to die within the next.. I don't know. What would I want to do before I die?

I'd hike across the Great Wall of china.. I'd take trains across america, the entire country. Then I'd buy me a train concession in europe. switzerland? hop on; germany? this way, 'mam...
I'd write. I've always wanted to write. I've always been writing.
I'd buy a lorryload of durians and drive it around the neighbourhood at night. uncles, grandpas and their children and spouses will come down. Laughter and chatter will be heard as the older generation reminscise, do you remember? do you remember? how we used to do it like this? in their various dielects and languages. The young ones will revel in the excitement, raising the carnival atmosphoere. All will buy and choose, and bargain. Loud agressive chinese accents will be heard selling, and picking, but somehow everyone across all races will understand. Bright flourescent bulbs will hang from the lorry, so that the durian flesh can be clearly seen. see see, hou jiak morh. bu yao shou uncle pian ni, yi ding hen hao chi de
Maybe the celebrations [this is a celebration, no?] will last into the night, with eeryone sharing, or maybe their voices will peter out into nothingness as they make their way home to feast in the warm kitchen. Either way, I will smile from the lorry and think, this was for daddy.

I can't think of anything else, but I think it's quite a lot already. Walk across the great wall of china, travel east and west, buy a durian truck...
Anyone wants to do this with me?