When it's the end, our lives would make sense.

When I was young, I used to snigger every time my mum sobbed in front of the TV over every little sad scene.

"They're just acting..." I would tell her as a matter of a fact.

Now, many years older and wiser I no longer mock her little nose-blowing episodes but instead join her in it...

And that's growing up for me.

It is coming to know that there are really such heart-wrenching sadness happening somewhere to someone in this world...

Knowing that there is so much I could lose, just because I have so much...

Life doesn't make as much sense as it did when I was 5 anymore.

Life is no longer about whether to buy or not to buy that sweet smelling strawberry eraser from the school bookshop.

Sometimes I wonder whether life finally made sense to my Grandpa when I watched him in bed, the rising and falling of his chest getting slower and slower, more and more infrequently...

Did the ghost of My-Life's-Past come before him and showed him his life, fast-forwarded for him one last time and it suddenly made sense?

What about people who die suddenly? BAM!- then nothing. (sorry, I always think of car accidents when I think of dying suddenly) Couldn't even release a squeak before your life is forcefully knocked out of you and snatched away.

How awfully unfair. Brought into this world without consent, where we stumble and fumble through our lives, until someone, something, somewhere decides to snatch it back. How pathetic, how helpless.

Seriously, this life with never ever make sense...will it?