In the blink of an eye, the weekend is over. It’s Monday, and the whole cycle begins again.
Before I went to sleep last night, I felt a deep sense of regret. It seems like I have accomplished nothing.
Throughout the night, I felt restless. Even my dreams were uneasy. I kept dreaming that I had work to do, tasks to finish.
And this morning as I was woken up, I felt really unsatisfied because I couldn’t finish the work I had been dreaming about.
Last Friday evening was full of hope, full of possibilities.
Saturday morning was filled with exciting freedom.
Sunday was moody and heartbreaking. And last night was totally depressing.
Poey Chin cooked me a bowl of prawn-mee flavoured instant noodles trying to cheer me up, and it helped.
But as I went to sleep I felt that I could have spent my time better.
Sometimes I wonder if I would feel the same before I die.
Would my life be totally wasted? Would I die feeling unsatisfied, feeling like I wasted all my time?
Even if I accomplish many things, will it matter after I’m gone?
In the end, it’s all nothing. Nothing lasts forever, not even happiness.
Work is meaningless. Wealth is meaningless. Life is meaningless.