by John Alexander Agujetas (Grade 10 – Luna)
The first thing to enter my consciousness this morning wasn’t the chilly bite of the air conditioning, nor was it the soft warmth of my fluffy blanket. It was the shimmer of sunlight through the window blinds: it was a giant ball of flaming gas a hundred and fifty million kilometers away.
When I’m lucky enough to have had a good night’s rest (which I rarely do) I’m treated to the pleasure of a brisk walk around the idyllic streets of my neighborhood in a tranquil moment that seems as though time has stopped. There is nothing but me, the icy bite of the morning wind and a few sparse rays of sunset.
As quickly as my brief moments of peace in the morning come, they’re whisked away by the first burning hot rays of sun, usually a reminder that I need to go back inside and prepare for yet another day in front of my screen.
I rarely have moments of relaxation these days, but surprisingly, the other one coincidentally coincides with the setting stage of a cooling dusk. When I’m again blessed with a light load of schoolwork, I take another, perhaps slightly longer, walk around. It’s at this time I get to release the weights on my shoulder again and enjoy the fact the harshest part of the day is over and simply enjoy the cooler rays of sun on my skin.
The transitions from day and night constantly remind me of how brief these moments can be, and the first, harsh rays of the sun are a scorching reminder of the realities we live in: the distance of the sun a reminder of the fact that we are but a tiny speck. But those few, cool moments at dawn and dusk remind me that there is so much to live for, no matter how simple those pleasures may be.
Graphics by Justin Carl Wingkee (Grade 10 – Luna)