Inhaling the dusty wind that the airconditioner blows, a cup of coffee on my left, the rain that beautifully meshes with a Coldplay song on the background, I have all the thoughts running on the loose inside my brains. The usual random, incoherent, fragmented thoughts of the past, of today and the apprehended ones of the future. I sift through them, taking only those that's important, as of the moment, and I have chosen the thoughts of the present.

It dwindles, it winds in a path of the uncertain, it could take me back to my past or project me to my blurred future. As I sit here I remember the memories that took place, discriminating the most memorable ones from those that I try to discard eternally. Feeling stuck in the moment, I recover those thoughts that have contributed in forming who I am, and then the questions are somehow answered. They may be unclear, but on one side of my mind, they're answered though the the other side seems unconvinced of the justifications. Where I am now, I am certain it's where I'm supposed to be. Nothing may seem to happen, nothing may seem insignificant nor nothing takes place that could go down in my record, but this sure is part of what's about to happen. 

The day is young, though the look of the weather may confuse it, and today's enthusiasm may be drowned by the rain, everything will all work together to turn this day into how it's tailored to be. 

I am selfish. I want you to fight for me, I want you to give up something for me, I want you to want me so bad. I won't be sorry if I ask too much, I do believe I deserve it, if you're not up for it, you just don't deserve me. I am not a figurine you just pick up when you have nothing left. I am your only option. Just me. So if you mean what you said, man up and fight for me. Don't be a douche and make an excuse that you're being sensitive, no you're not, you're a coward afraid to lose something. Now I'm telling you, you will never have me. Never.

You just don't know how much I miss you, how jealous I get when you give more attention and love to someone than you do to me. I'm sorry if I blurt out words that just come out like vomit, I can't hold them back. Not now, not when my emotions are heightened by anger. I'm sorry. The truth is, I miss you.

I know I'm not stupid, I only did it to let you know how much I hate this situation where we are now. I hope you could read behind the things that you see, and I hope your narrow mind would open a little space for understanding. It's not too much to ask of you, I know, but it's unlikely to happen. I know how your very murky thoughts work well for you to think of others in a very lowly and degrading manner. Sometimes when I think of how you could be so rigid with the things that you couldn't change nor comprehend, I am grateful that I am not like you. I may be the worst for you right now, you may have lost your hope in fixing me, but I assure you, this is just a phase I'm going through, you don't have to be a part of it, actually I don;t want to drag you in. When I make it through this rough patch, when I can prove myself to you, I'd only want you to see how good I will turn out to be, that I will assure you, and when that day happens, I can say that I owe a little from you, but don't think that I will never be grateful because the truth is, this part is that part where as much as possible I want you out of, but the rest, you're one big factor of who I was and who I will be, but at the moment, I know that you want me out of your life, out of your supervision, out of your responsibility. You don't have to look so mean and say that bluntly right on my face, don't worry, I know how to read clues and I am not so naive to think that we will soon be okay. I'm somehow contented that we act civilized people, no love, no nothing else, just living the roles we're bound to fill in, even if we both know that we're both so sick of each other. Your silence may be torture, but now I'd prefer that the coldness we both feel for each other would stay as discreet as it is, because hearing you once again, I can only remember how you can be so dementing and torturing with your words, I forgot that  your words are like knives that don't stab you right away, they scar little by little, building up pain. You torture me little by little, and each attempt, you do it so well. 

When the cold wind blows, and when your emotions blur your thoughts, the hazy amalgam of the two makes it so hard to distinguish the facts from pure emotions, and when the two blend and make a strong manifestation of what you really want and need, when needs and wants merge and become an irresistible one, when things start to make sense, you can't just reject them. When you can no longer question nor argue with what the mind and heart dictate, you resolve that you can object no more.

Objectivity is what rational people strive for, it's an endeavor that needs to cut the emotional strings. It is a struggle to let your mind take over your heart, but when emotions get tricky and start to steer your life, and you might end up dealing with bigger emotionally motivated problems, it's best to let your mind decide. But, when a decision is made without a heart, how can you be affirmed that it's the best? You won't know if it's right or wrong if it won't make you happy or regret, and you'll end up running in circles, always confronted by the same problem because a decision made without a heart is not a decision at all, it is a pitfall of the stoics.

Fix me.

It us my closet shouting at me, trying to catch my fleeting attention. I've written that down in my mental list of things to be done. I've been eager to do that, but the tediousness of that work seems to put off my interest. Maybe when there's nothing left for me to do, or maybe when it's the only thing left to do, I'd start to fold those dumped clothes in it and fix it.

My mom starts to blurt non-sensical, blight hurtful words again. This early, 8:46 am, that's the sound you wake up to in this house.

Maybe it's not my closet that needs to be fixed, maybe something else requires immediate diagnosis of behavior. It could be me, it could be my mom, but definitely not my closet.

The four year journey ends seven months from now.

This is our very last recollection together as a class. For the past three years, every recollection was just treated as another break from the humdrum of school, an excuse to sleep and be dismissed early. Never was a recollection considered as something that is of great importance in the activities lined up for the whole year aside from the aforementioned reasons that make it something to look forward to. Apathy was not an issue, but the effectiveness of the activity and the presence and guidance of the facilitator contribute a lot in making this activity a fruitful and effective one to the students. Maybe we didn't offer much of our hearts and minds to it, because for us, recollection was just another recycled activity since elementary that we've all grown with.

It is different this time around. Though there wasn't an obvious trace of eagerness on our faces in the morning that day, deep inside us, we were hoping that somehow, this time it would be different, that this time it will hit us hard and affect us in a way or another, something that would culminate and aggregate all of our experiences together as a class, hoping that this will be an instrument to patch things up, and to be able to work with people that we've created distance with for three years, people whom we've not spent enough time with, people whom we've judged, and people whom we've thought we'd never get along with, maybe this time this recollection will address these things that have remained sublimed and hidden within us.

True enough, it gave us the time to be able to affirm one another with our possessed goodness and admirable qualities, it was the time to speak up about how we really feel, to express these pent up emotions that were kept and were waiting for the right time to explode, to ask for forgiveness from people we've burned bridges with, and to just reconnect with people we've lost intimate contact with while we were busy exploring our lives as individuals. It was also the time to reminisce the extreme heights and extremes lows that we've been through as a class, a time to congratulate everyone for reaching this recollection, a few steps away from the journey's end, and a time to give ourselves a tap on our shoulders for all the job well done. A class as dynamic as ours, we are like heated molecules expanding and bumping on each other as that heat ignites the fervor in our hearts to be competitive and be excellent. There was competition, a healthy one, something that motivates each and everyone to do well, a kind of competition that does not aim for a sole person's success, rather it encourages to release the innate best that each of us possesses, it is a kind of competition where your competitors would extend a hand to help you succeed, so that no one gets left behind. We are a breed of eclectic and varied individuals that meshes and blends perfectly. We do not overpower each other, we complement whatever one lacks, and we compliment things that one has achieved through hard work.

Almost four long years of journey, the very first day we stepped into the institution we were all apprehended of the uncertainty that awaited us, young, vulnerable and skeptical, we've grown to be independent workers who were unified by our differences. We were once strangers, aloof and afraid of one another, anxious and uncertain of where we were going, but as the ride began to take us to where we were heading, we became each other's companion, each other's direction, and in the journey there was One who steered the wheel, the omniscient Who knew all along where we are destined to be.

This journey that have threatened us with the baffling circumstances that fortified our trust with one another. Invaluable values and knowledge that were inculcated in our hearts and minds by the institution acted as our guides during the journey, they were the baggages that we will all carry when we reach on our destination and embark on yet another journey. We will all be treading forked paths, but one thing will hold us together, the journey that we all shared.