weekends

It’s Saturday again. One more weekend to waste. You’d think that with all the weekends that all of us will have to go through in a lifetime, we’d have done Everything that Ought to have been done.

That’s just a pipedream, of course. The lot of us would spend the whole week drumming up a myriad of ways to spend the weekend. Weekend comes and we hardly commit to conceived plans. We’ll all soonest succumb to just sinking in our beds and waiting for another week to begin. Weekend goes. Then we spend the whole week wishing it were the weekend… so on and so forth. It’s only a cycle that never ends.

Next.

What does it mean when you’re suddenly wishing for someone to die? Hah! Must be a scary place to be in when your thoughts are bombarded with death, needling you.

I don’t know if everyone has not ever been in that phase when you just want to choke the bejeezus out of someone. Could be your officemate, or your meddlesome brother, or that annoying classmate of yours. Go figure. We can’t possibly do it in real life, so we just work it out in our minds. Simple, guilt-free crimes.

Or maybe you just want all of this to end, so that you can begin to live life anew. Like going to the blackboard and erasing whatever’s written on it. I don’t know. Not that folks can’t do anything about their lives until, I guess, when we’ll all be in the throes of Alzheimer’s. or AIDS.

That’s a compelling image of life, as words written on a blackboard. As if our lives have already been drawn out; but in a permanent marker, which can’t be erased.


But I’m nitpicking. Fact is, you’re just too lazy to turn your life around by moving.

Dare you to move.

Oi, but it’s a weekend. All I’ll be doing is trying to lose myself in languid, lazy sleep. Zzzz….