You could be driving a car, or at least riding in one. It's going at over a hundered, and as you look out, the vibrant bougainvilleas and frangipanis and the dull battleship greys and feces browns of the (school) buildings (101 Dover, more specifically) all blend into a wild cacophany of colours. Suddenly a dog crosses the road. Cars skid and horns blare. As you crane your neck you see the dumb animal, oblivious to it's impending doom. It's at that split second where you take in every single detail of the morbid picture painted in your eyes. You see the drool hanging from it's mouth, you see the panicked expression on the drivers' faces, you see pedastrians standing stock-still as they too prepare themselves for the grisly scene to come. You even have time to let out a mental sigh. Then time returns to normal and it happens. Wince.

Or you could be playing hockey for your school. Your'e on your own and you can't rely on anyone but yourself. All of a sudden your'e aware of everything. You see the bad guy goalkeeper shifting around his posts, you more feel than see the opponent racing up behind you. Without thinking, acting purely on instinct, you let loose a shot you wouldn't have been able to do normally and you even manage to catch a glimpse of the keeper's eyes widen in horror. You even have time to break into a mental smile. Then time returns to normal and it happens. Joy.

Or you could be playing some game on the computer. Say Counterstrike. It's you, one puny Arab terrorist against a squad of the most highly-trained soldiers in the world. You know you don't stand a chance. You skulk around the shadows, half-expecting to be killed the moment you step into the open, which unfortunately is exactly where you have to go. As you tread into the blinding light, you notice a movement in the corner of the screen. Instantly your finger jerks, and the poor sod who you saw is dead. It's a small consolation, there are still 3 to go, and 1 of you. Suddenly the dreaded 3 burst in at the same time. Without thinking, reacting purely with reflexes, you click 3 times so fast and so accurately you would not think it was you if you watched a replay. The last one is dead before the first hits the ground.

Best yet, you could be at a party with friends. Your'e the centre of attention, but not because your'e the most drunk or the loudest. In fact, your'e not even saying much. Rather your'e coming up with witticisms by the truckload, injecting one-liners of pure genius into the conversation every few moments. Inwardly you realise that 99% of the time, you wouldn't have thought of them. But now your'e conscious of it, you lose it.

It always lasts a moment. It's always fleeting. You yearn for it but have no idea how to achieve it. Sometimes you even dream about it. Hahaha I can't even put the way it feels into words but rather I just refer to it as it. Maybe it should have a name.

'Still looking-glass pool under light of autumn moon, after pebble has fallen into it'