Are we still in yesterday?

Come to think about it, how come I'm gradually growing up to love .. ghostly eccentric things? Cause i just finished writing a practice-essay, lucky it's only practice, as the content of it is just .. wrong. &I mean very very wrong. @.@ (Not sick one, mind you. Just not me.) Maybe one day I'll post it up here if I really got nothing to blog about. Anyway, I find this interesting;

It wasn’t what I thought it was. It wasn’t what you thought it was. It wasn’t what he thought it was. It wasn’t what she thought it was. It wasn’t what they thought it was. It wasn’t what anyone in the whole wide world thought it was. It just . . . was. But we passed judgment on it just the same, and called it by a dozen names. Then it died alone in a small unfurnished room on the second floor of an old building downtown, its bills overdue. The landlord carried it down in a battered shoe box. And I stood there, and you stood there, and he stood there, and she stood there, and they stood there, and everyone in the whole wide world ... stood there. And we were all as dumb as dumb can be. Our heads were bowed in shame. If only we had asked it what it was. It might have been explained. -Anonymous.