Perfume

Today wasnt a good day. School was incredulously mundane. Went for a lecture, spent the whole 2 hours doodling and scribbling. A tutorial afterwards, head stayed on my arms looking outside the window, at the thin winter leafless trees. Mind jumping from one thought to another, blocking any new information whatsoever.

In the tram home, I sat behind this guy. There was vague perfume smell from him. It reminded me of something, something I couldnt recall. Something sweet. I tried gamely to remember the reference of that smell, that sweet musky smell. It wasn't that easy, considering the fact that I have both the memory and concentration span of a goldfish.

So I just sat there, looking outside, the slow French chanson penetrating my thoughts. The vague scent lingers.

Then it hits me. It was my old Burberry perfume that I stole from my Dad. It was a guy's perfume, but I loved it. I used to go down to my parents' room before I went out just to use his perfume. Then one day I noticed it migrated into my room.

It seems so far, far away, that life of mine.

I couldnt remember clearly. I think my brain only categorizes my memories into 2 piles: now and before. Before is just everything that happened, piled together with no precise time reference.

Who was I, the I in Before?

Who am I?

Is she, the one living in Before, that different from the one living in Now?

Has she changed?

Has she changed for the better?

Or hasn't she?

It feels like now, we are running after one exam to another. A rat race for grades. The I in Now feels weird. Life isnt just about grades. Getting good grades is preferable, surely, but isnt there so much more to life than just words and theories a hundred years old determining who you are by what you get?

I dont know.

The I in Now is confused.

The I in Now is wondering what the I in Before would think.

The I in Now continues staring outside the window. And the sweet musky smell lingers.