Better Make It Last
Take it fast, take is slow, But it won't soften the blow When it's time to go
May be old, may be scared But you'll never be prepared For that final blow
Better use your wits or you'll lose your mind...
There's a world to discover and you're running Out of time Life's a roller coaster ride
That took you by surprise Now you're burnin' up inside
Better make it better, Better make it better, Better make it better,
Cause time is running out fast. You can scream you can shout, But when your time runs out Deep inside you'll know
May be rich, may be poor, But when you knock at Heaven's door, Well you have to go
Make the most of what you've got
For it's better than to not have anything at all.
Take each day as it's your last
Or you'll find the future's passed and you're left with nothing at all
Better make it better, Make it last
I love Swing Out Sisters so much. I can listen to their hits, in a row, all day, over and over again.
The witty melody will make you want to move your body. At least your thumbs ;) Maybe you roll your eyes up and smile. Read the lines, and you'll find that there's more to this life. So much more you can explore.
Now, you know why...
Before Dawn
In the middle of fasting month, you begin to doubt yourself. Your question of life, faith, love and everything evolves around them, rise again. You begin to wonder, whether God listen to your prayers, or he’s away somewhere. And if he listens, will he ever bother to make it realize? He just needs one snap of fingers, while you need to work your ass off to reach your dreams.
But then again you wake up in the middle of the night. It’s been days and you keep humming the same sentences. You know, this month only comes once in a year, so you’d better make the best of it. You hear a lot of sound from mosque nearby. In a place between asleep and awake you get down on your knees and look up. As if God is floating in your attic.
In a time just before dawn, I always feel like he comes from the attic, and sit still in front of me. He smiles. I offer him a cup of coffee. And as usual, cups of coffee and thousand stories always come in a package. He drinks his black macchiato while I sip my French vanilla latte slowly. Too busy to enjoy the coffee, my thousand stories need to be burst out. I am far too afraid of running out of time. Because when the dawn is coming I have to stop. Have to take my proper meal. And he smiles again with the promise to accompany me on the day.
"Hey God, maybe you’re the only one who listens to me right now. And maybe you started to feel fed up about my questions. I can’t help but ask you again all the questions popped in my head. Hey God, am I in the right path? If this isn’t for me, then why do I feel joy about it? And that tall guy? Yeah, the one appears on the pictures I keep on my wallet. Is he really the one? What? A hard question? There’s no such thing as a hard question for you! Kidding me… And my dream becoming a supermodel, will it ever come true? High heels might do? Aha. Nah, you’re joking again."
"Hey God, I am sleepy. Really. I'm not kidding. It’s been a nice conversation, though. Tomorrow we’ll meet again? Oh, owkey. Exact time and location? Well, maybe more or less. Ouw, tomorrow I’ll be staying at a friend house. You know the way? Ouw, is it closer to your place? Great, great. Ah, distance doesn’t matter to you anyway."
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