Routine

I used to be scribbling and doodling quite a bit, especially in the morning. This was mainly because I would reach school by 8am everyday, no matter I have an early lesson or an afternoon one. I like it, waking up early in the morning, starting the day early, feeling I have more hours in hand than others. Boarding the usual first bus, looking out at the usual scenery, taking the usual nap on the bus, reaching the bus stop outside the campus before the sun managed to rise. It was as though I was racing and competing with the sun. Walking on the pavement into the campus, that usual walkway to the eatery, the empty walkway, the empty eatery, the usual seat and table that I always sat on. The plasma television on the wall will be on Channel News Asia, while I start the most important meal of the day. I will have the same thing on the menu, with little changes everyday, to the extent that my order was memorised by the one taking orders. I looked around, observing the environment, experiencing much more than others. I see the hardships of the workers, slogging their lives from early birds like me. I feel for them. Breakfast session ended, and I cleared my tray, with the cleaning lady always thanking, which I do not understand. I would be doing my revision, or something constructive. With occasional breaks, I will be scribbling and doodling. I used to bring this notebook, which I used as rough paper, it was fully filled with scribbles and doodles. All filled with my emotions and thoughts randomly there as and when they flow by.

It was a routine, a habit I cultivated for one whole semester.
The next semester will be the same, I ensure.

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