I open the door, clinging to something I must be doing before nothing. I stare at the wall, the ceiling, the floor and the mirror. I see everything, everything that seemed to make me tired after nine of every afternoon. Just by a thought, I single out xai’s bag.

I unzip the largest closure and started sorting things.

1. My last semester sociology exam with a handwritten grade above the paper: “why did you even have to exam?
2. Three statistics yellow papers, crumpled on the side, all indicated the struggle.
3. 2 registration forms. One with a full load and one with limited units because of one downfall and two crashes.
4. 3/4 sheet of yellow paper, folded in half.
5. A stress ball, with a printed stress-giving smiley on the surface.
6. 1/8… 1/16… 1/4… wait, all sizes of crumpled leftover yellow papers from the original one whole.
7. Glitters, not on a container or pack, rather, on the bottom of the bag, scattered all over.
8. A black bible entitled “Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas
9. A hardbound Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
10. The life of Rizal handout, which talks about how he being not the national hero, but rather, Bonifacio.
11. Four journalism handouts, with focus on media literacy and biasy. All looked untouched.

…and a three page bond paper with scribbles bonded with adhesive tape (in order to stop endorsing Scotch™). I started peeling of about 1000 tapes just to, before reading. And it says…



~ by protagonist on November 29, 2009.

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