Letters of Youth


/ 30 November 2020

Great! Magnificent idea Anthony. This time, you’re the man!  I muttered to my silly self as I stood near our dining table, making my own coffee. Feeling numb, dumb, yet determined.

In the middle of a bustling city, it was Saturday evening, near 10 o’clock, when I suddenly decided to start my reaction paper. Actually, there are a series of requirements sitting on my desk, waiting for me to touch them. It was a minute or two when it occurred to me just how lonely I am. I am no alien of being alone, but the thought of having someone to talk to, pinch my guilt, and pricks my senses. My mom and dad, are OFW’s in California, my two sisters are in Manila pursuing their own careers. Haist! Here I am, doing I guess well on our online classes. So, just imagine how boring and ghostly sound it was in our house.

At some point, I just want to cry. Weep all day, burst into tears, and debate the reasons why am I alone. Right now, I was stuck with myself, with my papers, modules, and stuff.

That was when tears started falling, unceasingly.

From the first day of the quarantine, I really became anxious and paranoid. I always ask myself on will I survive. Until when our online classes started, I said to myself, I can’t.

At 11:42 pm, my reaction paper was still blank. Sadness is boiling inside of me, I tried distracting myself. I surfed the Net. And an idea dawned on me.

11:50, I stood near of dining table. Giddily stirring my sweet drug, mixed with poison that I hoped won’t make me sleepy. I took my cup of coffee and sat in front of my laptop. I am no heavy drinker nor a coffee lover, but I could ignore any not-quite-right tastes in my mouth for the bliss of no inhibitions. I took a swig, and let ideas swim on my mind. After a while, I finally began to write.

“… lots of us suffer, we no longer felt being students, instead of robots. Manipulated and joining sex jokes, we want to take a break, but still, we kept going. Have you ever stared at our eyes?”

By the end of the paragraph, I downed almost 3 cups of coffee. My heart, palpitates fast, my cheeks felt hot, head-heavy. Breathing hardly, I rubbed my eyes and tried to feel the redness of my cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was crying.

“It is hard, and I think I cannot keep ongoing. How am I supposed to? These papers are breaking and tearing my sanity, choking me with disbanded pleasure as if tomorrow won’t pain me again. Do you even hear our pleas?”

For an odd reason, the coffee was triggering paranoia in me I could not bear to explain. I gazed at the lights in my room like they were figures with daggers. I stand, walked beside the doorstep, and then later I was standing outside staring at the moon. “What if all is normal, like those days?” I muttered to my own self.

Maybe I am not lonely. Maybe I am just filled with intoxication. Maybe I am just triggered by this online class. Truly it was hard adjusting, concerns are unbearably seen and too often neglected.

These papers are bitter sweet-filled symphonies.

These pens are carving, what?

My eyes are stabbed with pain, unendingly staring at those screens!

I wish all is normal, again.