เล่าสู่กันฟังในวันว่างๆ (โดย รุ่งอรุณ ผลินธร)
Every day I wonder, is time killing me, or am I killing time?
You know, when I look at myself in the mirror, I do not see exactly the same person although that is I. I have been seen this reflection on a mirror since I was a little girl, a teenager, a young adult and now a woman. Yes, this reflection is I, but it is not the same one. Do I confuse you?
I used to see a little girl in a mirror, but now is a woman, who always stares back to me, and asks me what I have learned about life in each day. I wonder who takes that little girl away. Why this woman is here?
My mind and my voice still belong to me, but my body is not. It belongs to something, called “Time”, which is continuing control me without my willingness. Time automatically adds every minute to hours, to days, to months, and to years then it gives me the total different of number every year for my age. I cannot refuse, but I must accept each number that I received. I cannot stop or beg time to stay at the number of age that I like. That is a sad part. I wish I could deposit these numbers into my bank account and get some interest from it as my life’s investment. I wish I could negotiate with time that how more number I have for my age, how much younger I look. May I, please?
“NO WAY! AND NO ONE CAN! NOW GET LOST!” Oh! Time yells back to me.
It does not matter what I like or not like from moment to moment, time pushes me to forward, not backward. However, my thought always sneaks back and forth from present moment to those good old times long ago, and it keeps mourning to stay there as long as possible with those happiness moments.
Dear Diary, I used to think that each day I control my time to do that and this. However, the sad truth is: “Time” is in charge of my life from the first minute I was arrived on earth until this moment. Dear diary, now can you answer me who is killing whom?
© Rungaroon Plintron, 2017