Random Thoughts

my english tuition class

wrote this in March... i turned my homework in a week late so the teacher didn't read it :(

*sadness

*depression

*insanity

(dw guysss im not insane :P)

~ Ambrosia 💜

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

PAST

"We're totally gonna crush this."

My best friend and teammate, Henry, gulps down a mouthful of Gatorade as he spins a basketball on his index finger with his right hand.

"You betcha. With James as our captain, we'll definitely go down in history, say 200 years, and people will probably still be talking about our game today!"

Ralph playfully slaps my back. He fakes an English accent, "Twenty-fourth of March, 2025: The day of evolved basketball history."

I laugh, trying to mask the trembling in my voice. "Don't get your hopes up, Wreck-it-Ralph - chances are, technology still wouldn't be advanced enough for everyone to live to above 140 years old. But who knows..?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

FUTURE

Before you open your eyes, you know that you're inside your bubble pod. You're not sure how you know. You just do. A Past-Memory! There's a faint, familiar, mechanical hum around you. Your limbs feel heavy and... you giggle softly to yourself as the word "rusted" pops up in your head. Yes, "rusted" is the only word to describe how you are feeling. You feel rusted, like you haven't moved in years. Your previous giggles have turned into a cackle as you rock back and forth on your creaking bed, fingernails digging into the soft flesh under your thighs, rapidly testing out your brand-new, pretty word. "rustedrustedrustedrusted..." You say it again and again, chanting it, singing it, for a long, long time. Time! Also one of your favourite words. "tiiimmme..." You stretch it out like a rubber band, rolling your tongue out to savour its existence. The words with four letters always meant the most. You gape at the clock on the wall. The shortest line spins around 67 times. The date is next to it. 29/152/48257. 200 years in that memory already! "timetimetimetime..."

What was your name again? Something starting with a J... or was it a G? It started with a J, didn't it? Jake? James? Yes, James - that was your name. Then what was the word you were thinking of starting with a G? Goal? This word was also important enough for Past-You to keep, close to their heart. Ravenous for the release that only memories could bring, you squeeze your eyes shut and stab the precious needle back into your arm, digging through the memories like fish in the dark oceans of your mind, invisible hands greedily lunging for more, shoving others away, searching for the right one. There it is.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

PAST

Henry! HENRY! Over here!"

Hearing my frantic calls, he passes the ball to me, and I swiftly pivot, grinning as my peripheral vision catches the players from our opposition tripping over one another like bulls in a china shop, lamely attempting to block me from the ring. They should've given up back when we shot our twentieth goal - y'know, to prevent further embarrassment. Concentrating, I bend my knees, line the ball up to the corner of the black rectangle on the backboard, then I jump, release with precise force and watch triumphantly as the ball sails through the air, swishing through the net. Goal!

II< MEMORY REWIND

Goal!

II< MEMORY REWIND

Goal!

II< MEMORY REWIND

Goal!

...

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

FUTURE

Oh, it's ever so easy to get trapped in memories, isn't it? Yes, every so often, when you wake up, you would observe a Bubble-Guard haul another one of your unmoving bubblemates out of their bubble. Oh, yes, you love the way their nails continue growing after their passing. Sometimes you like to spend a few decades at a time marvelling their long, sharp nails before the guards snatch them away from you. The other years are spent replaying Past-Memory after Past-Memory.

They've given up on you, haven't they?

"Well no," you declare. "This memory isn't mine!" You pause for a moment, carefully considering the next words you should utter to yourself. "It belongs to James on Earth!"

You nod your head furiously because you are proud of yourself and clap your hands and jump on the bed and chuckle and stop and count as the shortest line on the clock spins around 83 times. The date is 64/29/48372.

You scrunch up your face in concentration, and after you finish concentrating you continue to scrunch up your face because it feels good. After a while, you snigger and walk out of the bubble, then push open the door. The environment behind you disappears as you scurry to the Control Room. You sit on the comfy chair, slam your finger on the announcement button and wait for the chime.

Then you declare, "Welcome, voyagers on the Thunder! We will arrive at our destination at about..." You pause for a dramatic effect, then inhale a breath of auto-recycled air. "NEVER!! We will NEVER arrive at our destination because there is NO destination! THIS WHOLE JOURNEY WAS A FUCKING LIE!" You halt. Steal a moment to compose yourself. Smooth out your shirt. "Thank you for your time. Happy voyaging!"

You lean back, satisfied, and wait patiently for a reply as you happily hear your announcement being played on loop, echoing around the empty Control Room, around the empty Artificial Memory Room, around the empty Thunder spaceship.

uhhh yeah!! that's it :D

hope you guys liked it :3

(as mentioned before, not to worry, i'm not insane :P)

...

~Ambrosia 💜