The Acceleration Of My Merry- Go- Round (II)

The Acceleration Of My Merry- Go- Round (II) - So, there I was at age six and a half naively aspiring longevity paired with invincibility regarding the continuation of my little scheme. Regardless, I could not quite shake that gut- wrenching sensation of doom looming over me. I just irrefutably knew that that fragile card house of mine was to be blown over and collapse at the slightest slip, and it did. Until then, however, I faithfully kept on riding that steep wave while experiencing time almost come to a standstill. It could impossibly have gone on longer than another week, two at the utmost, and yet, at that young age, I was certain of having been soothingly cradled by time for at least another couple of months. Rather ironically, though, both the actual period of final discovery and its harsh consequences equally appeared to take far longer than it did in reality. In fact, I remember sitting on the toilet forever and trying to literally squeeze out the last drop of pee. Of course, my bladder was not going to restlessly empty until later, usually around the time I was being physically disciplined. Funny, even then, during that most unpleasant stretch of castigation, I would attempt and just make the best of my seemingly endless ordeal. I began to marvel about the kitchen floor with its beautiful checker- board tile pattern, and I even counted the black squares around me before adding the white ones, depending how much time was left. Not enough that basically every single aspect of my daily routines back then proved to be quite a problem, challenge, obstacle, etc., but it was also of just incredibly considerable length. Thus sleep became my one and only safe haven which allowed me to let go of all that agony that just followed me like a shadow all day long. Whenever I was confronted with spells of insomnia, I freaked out because, what on earth, was I to do lying in my bed for an entire night while being wide awake? Time just would not pass, and my mind was not willing to shut up. So I began to pray and talk to Jesus, or I just made up the craziest heroic stories in my mind just to do reruns at a later point. When I was sleeping somewhere else but home and I had a chance to get up, I often became creative and would draw, read or write something just to kill another night. Time to me was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Weekends, for instance, were generally highly desired and therefore joyfully awaited simply because there was apparently no end whatsoever to playtime. And it didn't really matter what type of game my sister and I started on a Friday afternoon, it could easily be continued on Saturday and at times even be dragged into Sunday. No wonder that I personally lived for the weekends. Mondays, in contrast, I rather naturally despised not just due to the fact that our lavish three- day game session was over, for real, but because I had to be back in school. As you might have figured by now, I hated school with a passion as it was way too combative for my taste. What's more, I felt the threat of being ripped apart and shredded to pieces all over again just like a gladiator at the Circus Maximus. Well, ultimately, time did manage to pass, and with it several years went by. The very day I had just officially finished the first four of my eight years of Highschool, I surprisingly ran into my former Elementary teacher as I was waiting at the bus stop. When I revealed to her exactly that fact and showed her my certificate, she reacted outright amazed. "Look at you! Who would have thought then that you would get that far in life?", she then sympathetically remarked, but I had great difficulty to wrap my head around her words. "Well, what other choice did I have?", I uttered nevertheless. My pathetic response was a shot in the dark as it failed to leave any impression on her. Never mind, she didn't linger on but hurriedly wished me good luck and sped off again. The next question just kept swirling around in my head and grabbed all my attention for quite a while. After all, was I not going to face the continuation of just another four- year long tough uphill battle? That was weighing so heavily on me that I just could no longer see the forest for all those darn trees. I should prove to be absolutely right about my self- fulfilling prophecy as far as any school- related struggles lurking along the way. Where I turned out to be fairly wrong, though, was my perception of time as remaining just as eternal as ever. It was not until Grade 11 that I first noticed a slight difference which was that time was slowly losing its apparently maximum expansive flexibility. More and more, I realized time being of actually rather fleeting nature. - More next time.