BLURRY

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Seated in the most strategic place I found in a town’s plaza, I rested for a while, turned my pocket wi-fi ON, and prayed that my internet network provider will bless me with a strong signal but to no avail. So instead of complaining about it (which I normally do), I remained quiet, looked around me, and enjoyed the wind of varying strengths from directions I could not determine.

I had a ballpark figure of seventy people to be there with me – some with funny businesses. Anyway, it did not bother me, and I had an impression that the place was not so crowded and not so noisy – just a perfect avenue to sort things out and recover my focus – not to mention the fact that I wanted to escape from the hellish atmosphere inside the house, obviously caused by summer heat.

There’s something eccentric about that day. Though I placed my butt on the same bench where I almost got my anus burned a month ago, I felt like it was my first time to see the leaves of balete trees falling and the dusts carried by the wind – some even stuck in the pores of my oily face.

I wanted to write. Albeit I was suffering from writer’s constipation, my desire to write was higher than my level of habitual procrastination. With this, I decided to bring out my laptop from my purple bag and opened my MS Word without any topic in mind.

I stared at my blank document for a couple of minutes before pressing any key when suddenly the wind blew the strongest since the time I arrived at the whereabouts. My laptop monitor, including my eyes, became blurry because of dusts.

And to prevent any eye infection, I brought out from my pocket my handkerchief and carefully wiped my face starting from my forehead down to my chin. I took a deep breath despite of the risks of dusts entering my nostrils. And without any hesitation, I wiped my laptop screen using the same hanky I used to wipe my face only to see it become clearer.

I watched the people passing by – some with destinations, some just ambling for no reason. And while I was lost in thinking, the girl that I was madly in love with conquered my mind like Napoleon Bonaparte. I told myself, “Now, you’re talking!” Because I was denying the fact that there was something about us that I needed to fix.

Like the wind that blew dusts to my face and to my screen, it’s not forever. It may become blurry for a moment, but once it has been wiped, it will become clear. I don’t know if this article will reach her. I’ll just rest in this oasis of calm and tell her in silence, “I love you. And I’m sorry for dropping your serotonin to its lowest level.”

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