‘Twas a cloudy December afternoon. It was our Christmas break, a two-week hiatus from all the tedious school work. Not only was it a break for school work, it was also a break from all the wacky loops of college and dormitory life. Vacations, for me, grows more boring every year. I love my family, and I miss them, but friends bring a genuine thrill in your life.
I decided to pimp my dull life up and take a stroll on the slowly decaying Clark. Everything at my hometown is getting more silent. Helmets on bikers, no firework policy on New Year’s Eve, strict curfew at 10pm and many others have contributed to the dying vigor of the community. It is a safety and security issue however, though too much cautiousness may lead to lackluster living.
I dressed on some decent clothes (because I wear torn boxer shorts at home) and went off with my coin purse, in case I get hungry and decide to eat. With me is my MP3 player to give me a beat while I walk. I am currently addicted to optimistic and upbeat club music; it gives me the smile when I listen to them.
I went to the playground, not to play, but just to sit down on the monkey bars and feel the province breeze. Clark is a nice place to unwind, and that’s why 24/7 I unwind – making me really an unproductive piece of living flesh. On the far side of the grassy patch however, there are annoying kids – noisy enough for their voices to be heard amidst Kesha going wild on my earphones.
They are holding a tumbler of juice. I removed the earphone from my ear, trying to discern what the commotion is all about. Yes, those kids are battling as to who gets to drink first.
Silly kids. I did not imagine myself screaming to the top of my lungs for a sip of juice, unless I am totally dehydrated and fighting for my life. After some undecipherable words, they stood from the log and walked away. As they walked, juice spilled, leaving only half of the original quantity for them to drink.
“Bobo! Hindi mo muna kasi tinakpan! Natapon tuloy!” the older girl said to the smallest girl in the group who was holding the tumbler as they walked.
The girl cried, looking at the juice as it wets the dry soil.
I ignored them, tuned it to my MP3 again and realized that I was not able to turn my player off while I was listening to them. The song playing was “Just a Dream”. What a great time.
I guess that we should set the LIMITS first before feelings and words get spilled, or we end up crying over what we had lost. Worst, people may scorn us for what we have done.
10 minutes after, I stood up and went home – without eating.
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