The Day After Tomorrow...

In today's Media Appreciation class, we had a screening of the film "The Day After Tomorrow". As always, we need to do a review on it, which is due this Friday. Anyway, the movie turn out to be quite interesting, especially how they manage to associate global warming (which is suppose to generate higher temperature) with the disruption of the Artic winds that in the end causes a new Ice Age for humankind in the film. One of my favorite line from the movie must have been: "The cost of doing nothing is even higher".


True, isn't? We sometimes choose to ignore mistakes that may seem trivial at first, but these mistakes will eventually manifest into something more frightening than what we had imagine. By then it would be too late...What will happen in the day after tomorrow? Or the days after that? Well, we will never know until the day comes...


It rained again this afternoon and the drizzling never did stop. And as I wrote this, the slight drizzle has picked up its momentum so that the constant noise ( somewhat similar to white noise ) is now a melancholic symphony that shroud the growing night. My shoes, drying under the bed, with its rubber soles cold from the many puddles that dotted the open-air car park are a testament of the bleak weather.





Nevertheless, rainy days are somewhat special to me. There's some kind of reverence in the gloom of its drizzling or the malevolence of the mighty thunders. It put me in my place, telling me how helpless we can be when dealing with the forces of nature. It enhances the warmth that we never realise because we are too busy complaining about the heatwave and hot temperature that we dread so much. I don't know. But there's peace in the pitter-pattering of raindrops that draw me deeper into my own thoughts, regardless of how silly they may be. Moments of self-analysis that I so often appreciate.


My state of dizziness continued from yesterday to today. As of now, I'm still feeling a little lightheaded. My appetite from the evening eludes me as taste of nausea trails everything I consume. I think I'll skip dinner. I feel the cold now. A tender chill that pricks the skin. I think I'll rest now.