I died. Last night when I went to bed I saw me dead. I laid my head on the pillow and said my prayer. I kissed my brother goodnight and closed my eyes and in a second I was awake. I couldn't remember whoever it was hovering and fussing above me but I saw my mother's slack, distraught face on my left. And I just laid there, motionless, watching myself wait for the white cloth to go over my head.

Never did. My phone vibrated next to my ear, the clock struck 12 or so. It was over. The dream was over. Death didn't come last night and in the morning I wondered if it were better this way, or otherwise. Its very unhealthy, really, to be thinking such things. Discontentment with life makes us delusional and somehow death for what, half and hour last night, made me feel a lot lighter.

Nope, I'm not emotional, suicidal or a wreck. I'm just dazed and day-dreaming and wondering about things on the other side on the fence.

Happy Ramadhan to all (:

Hi Daddy,

Its me. I'm pretty much done here, and I think everyone's doing great right now. I remember once when you told me you wished you let me try out for JC, and you regretted enrolling me in a havoc school you know as polytechnic. I wonder if you'd be happy; I'm wearing formal attire everyday and I'm into Marketing, something I liked? I wonder if you'd be proud. Anyways I've packed, left a whole lot of junk behind, and I wonder if you could send me your address? I'd like to come by, say hi or something?

Love you, Always.
Your daughter.