impermanence and how i feel about it

“what would you do if tomorrow was your last day on earth?”

what would i do, besides burning all my papers from secondary one till now and making a grilled cheese sandwich from the flames?

i mean, i’d have to say something to my family and friends, definitely.

i could buy cream envelopes and white cardstock and some wax stamps and some dried flowers, and write everything i’ve ever wanted to say to anyone down with fancy black fountain ink and seal it with the flames from my burning papers and the gold wax i have, alongside a flower i think they’d like a lot.

or i could buy sweets and gummies for everyone and pass it along to anyone i’ve ever met, giving them all their favourite treats, and if they don’t like sweets then their favourite dessert, and if they don’t eat dessert then i’ll give them 20 dollars to get a meal, and smile and laugh along with them as they dig in to their treats and giggle and laugh with sugary excitement.

or- or i could just go around and call friends up, get all of us somewhere we haven’t been for a long time, splurging on anything and everything we used to want, or want right now, or will ever want. eat ice cream and sit on swingsets and watch as the sun goes down and the stars come out with the moon. reminisce.

but… then?

what happens next?

what happens when letters sit on shelves, tucked away between pages and forgotten?

what happens when empty gummy wrappers litter floors and pretty packaging gets thrown in the trash?

what happens when the swingset swings empty with the stars fading into the sun?

what then?

i still remember when i promised a friend two years ago, that when we’d both turned 18, we’d fly to japan and go to harry potter land together. we’d spend a few days there, take every ride we can, remember the magic of the wizarding world again. prongs, moony, padfoot, wormtail — we’d finally be without a mcgonagall to stop us.

a lot can happen in two years. i wonder if they still remember?

i met someone on a cruise i-don’t-know-how-many years back. we went to her cabin, sat on her bed, and played uno all night long until i had to leave. we were screaming that night — +2! +4! UNO! and then we’d burst into laughter and reshuffle the deck and play again. we were essentially best friends that night, playing uno on a boat in the middle of the gentle sea under the stars.

what are they doing now? do they remember me?

i- i don’t want time to pass. i want to freeze it all, keep it in stasis. like… like a pretty snowglobe, intricate lights glittering amidst perfectly preserved sidewalks and painted pastel buildings sitting solidly on a base. tiny figurines of people enjoying the snow falling into their hair and eyes softly illuminated by candlelight.

they spy the sky darkening, but the lively town streets lights glow ever brighter and cheerier. in fact, as the sky grows darker and darker and seems to swallow them up into a void of black the lights still stay on and stay strong, so strong it’s beginning to blind them slightly as they stare. so they stare into the snow that’s now knee-high, thigh-high, waist, chest, neck, the bright white reflecting light everywhere into the sunless sky and they close their eyes but the light pries open their eyelids and pierces their retinas and makes them scream and eat mouthfuls of snow until they can’t breathe anymore because of the cold shoving its way into their windpipes, and-

and there they’ll stay for eternity. frozen. immovable statues, encased in a globe of glass, snow swirling all around them for eternity. a land placed in watery, ice-cold stasis.

.
.
.

and… yeah, i think i’d like that a lot.