I looked at the calendar, and watched the days go by. (Essay)

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My everyday life was never vibrant to me as it may seem to others. It appears ordinary, it is the same as everyone else, and it follows a routine. Yet, I am thankful for the sometimes-dull-sometimes-thrilling-full-of-flaws life of mine, which I believe is beautiful.

Yes, sometimes dull. Dull, because everything else is much the same for me. I wake up at the screaming sound of my alarm, I think of what lies ahead for that certain day, I get up from my cozy bed, take a bath with cold water, eat anything that will satisfy my stomach, and go to this university.

I take my usual seat, somewhere near at the back, listen to the professors and instructors, but mostly, I don't absorb whatever they're pouring us. Most of the time, I'd rather drift my thoughts away.

I study, just like the others. I do schoolworks, which I know are unending, and at dusk, I lie down in my bed, which has been waiting for me the moment I left it.

Just when I was about to close my eyes, it is then where I get tired, tired of what I did in the past hours, and felt an inherent tiredness with my life, and my thoughts start to haunt me. And silence makes me realize that everything is just a recurrence, things just happen over and over again. And I wonder, of all the things I did, are those worth doing? Are those even worth living for?

All I did was do the things that I am expected to do, do the things I must do, such as studying to death, and deprived myself from sleep just so I can finish what I have to. I did things without enjoying it, I did things just so I can stay alive on the path I have taken.

And I smile at myself, it is then when I grasp the idea that I should not complain, no matter how dull my life seem to be (sometimes), I do have reasons to live, people and dreams that are worth living for, experiences that are waiting for me, and places that wants my existence.

Then I think of the other part of my life. And this is the part where it becomes thrilling.

As I walk my way to school, I smile at the sun, even if how it smiled back at me hurts my eyes, and its touch somewhat burns my skin. I look at the trees, and I feel pleased on how they look down on me, and how the leaves walk with me as the wind sing sweetly to us. And then I feel satisfied with the calmness that linger in me, realizing that I feel too much about everything, everything around me, and I blame my fragility, my fragile-emotional-state.

At class, I plainly look at my classmates, and listen to their words, sometimes pointless arguments, stories that are covered with bragging, and nonsense parleys. I also think of their own lives, do they like it? Do they too have problems? And, do they ever get tired of their life? Thrilling as delightful as it may sound, because I started to appreciate what I have learned before, the art of observation, so does the art of thinking deep.

It is also at class when I does my thought-drifting, rather than listening to my professors and instructors, which sometimes tires me, they make me somnolent, and sometimes makes me realize how they use our naiveness to dispense into us their deceptions. And so I think of anything else, promising myself to study my lessons when I have the courage to.

And then I return to my usual practice, watch them and listen to whatever they're deliberating.

I love watching the people around me, I love listening to them, I loved myself for not joining them, for staying somewhere unnoticed, I loved my mind for letting me think deeply of the things just by merely looking beyond what my eyes can see.

I loved my mind for functioning properly during hard works, though sometimes it sleeps peacefully when I needed it most, and letting me do things not because I wanted to, but only because I am obliged to.

But some of the hard works I did, sadly, did not paid off. I had failures, which I consider as another thrilling part of my life. I was shattered into pieces, as if I became a broken glass that can never be restored. But fortunately I was able to stand up. And this is one my greatest achievements in my life, to be able to stand up from failures. This then made me appreciated things more than before.

And because of the despair I had from my failures, I decided to build walls around my heart, not wanting to open myself easily to love. Because apart from failure, in which I am afraid of, I also didn't want to be forgotten, and be replaced for someone else. I might bleed constantly if all of these happen at the same time.

At some point, I met someone who gave life to my stone heart, and saved me from the agony I had. Nevertheless, the walls I built weren't that strong. He did not just entered my life, he touched every corner of my life. He awakened my mind at the time when I was about to give up on it, he awakened my soul and made me crave for the freedom I have always wanted. And I intend to remain happy with him for the rest of my life.

At the moment, I am harvesting the fruit of my damn labors. Now I'm done with another chapter of my life. And so, another page opens, waiting patiently for the products of the decisions and choices that I will make. I am expecting for the continuous dull routines of my life, but I am hopeful to survive all the "thrills" that life will toss at me.

So this is what I did, and what I will continue to do. No matter how dull the repetition may seem to me, I will continue everything I have begun. This is how life is done, and I have to get on it. Life is beautiful, in a manner that only the observant will notice.

Again, I do have reasons to live, people and dreams that are worth living for, experiences that are waiting for me, and places that wants my existence.

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