Wednesday, September 19, 2007

She, the interminable...

i spend my life waiting. waiting for the train, waiting on my commute – i waste three hours of every day sitting here, there, crammed in a corner of the carriage floor, speeding on to the rest of my waiting life. i’m waiting for uni to finish, waiting to graduate. waiting for the opportunity to get a job, which i will do whilst waiting to get into med school. where i will wait until i graduate. my life won’t start until i’m thirty. by which time it will be time to have children – wait nine months for them to be born, five years for them to be in primary school – maybe then i can have a real life? – then high school… then what? i’ve no idea, but i’m pretty sure that by then i’ll be waiting for retirement. from there, this waiting game makes its way into a trivial art form – waiting for the mail, for visits from my kids, for pension day, for my carer to change my colostomy bag. which, when it comes down to it, is pretty much the definition of life. get out of the intestine, into the bag. and then you get incinerated, just for being what you are.

carpe dium, its slipping away.