Next stop...

It still takes around 9 minutes from Marsiling to Choa Chu Kang.

The route remains unchanged.
But what about the people taking the route?

I was on the train back home last night.
Got a knee-jerk reaction when I saw, of all people, an AJC student on same train.
The guy got off somewhere, but when the train stopped at Marsiling,
I thought I saw myself getting off too.

The boy in an all white attire, the girl in a white top and red skirt, walking in the direction of the flats, the boy trying to walk as slow as possible.
The boy in a grey blue attire, always at the head of the train, eyes eagerly focusing on the faces on the platform, then running to the carriage where she'll always alight on, feigning non-chalence but panting like a f**king dog inside, heart almost always missing a beat.

So many years ago.
We've grown up now, grown apart now.
The times and memories were eroding.
But every single f**king time I pass by the station, I re-live them all over again.

The train rumbled on.
Homewards.
It always did, and it'll always do. (for some time at least.)
The 9 minutes will go on, as it always did.
I'll have to get down after the 9 minutes, leaving pieces of me scattered on the tracks.
How many 9 minutes have I spent trapped in this limbo?
How many pieces of me are left to be scattered?

9 minutes.
Some things just remain unchanged.

But there're things that are so different now.
Let me just keep this 9 minutes of my life,
stored in some private folder,
in my mind.

I started to crank up the volume on the iPod...