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When the going gets really slow
The man was silently watching the vehicles following the jeep we were in. His wife, who's probably five months pregnant was complaining about how he failed to help her with the house chores that morning. I thought to myself, "What a selfish bastard." A friend was with them and he was complaining about the jeep being slow.
At his cue, I began to notice that indeed the jeep was going at a really, really slow pace. It was already 8:55 in the morning and I was still in Jaro. I was late.
Should I take another jeep? I debated for a few seconds and decided this turtle-paced driver is my safest bet to arrive in the office safe albeit late. The risk for accidents is less with drivers who think they are in a funeral march. How ironic. Slow … funeral… safe?
The slower the pace, the more opportunity for one to think of a lot of things. After all, you can't do so much and sit back. Only your mind can work. Mine began working.
My attention was caught by the sight of a dog limping in a funny way. "It looked like a kangaroo," I told myself, but stopped when I saw that its body was filled with infection. Some puss was already showing and it broke my heart to know that it's in pain. Do you know that dogs feel more pain than humans? I wonder what the city government is doing where stray dogs are concerned. Why don't they just get them out of the streets and kill them all. That way, they'll save these poor animals from suffering as well as make the public safe from rabies.
Then it started to rain. It kissed my face and so with the other passengers. It brought with it a breeze of fresh air. Or is it? Fresh, I mean? Try rubbing your face with Eskinol every night and you'll start to doubt that so-called fresh air that you enjoyed earlier. You know it's dirty, but you let it kiss you anyway. That applies to other things apart from air. You know it's bad for you and the people you love and those who trust you, but you do it anyway. It's human nature. But I guess we can't continue to make human nature as an excuse. I read somewhere that one of the signs of maturity is not making excuses for yourself but finding ways to avoid the things that trigger your weaknesses.
I was so busy encoding this article in my mobile phone that I realized I was already past the office. I was already late.
I started to blame the slow driver. Then the rain that caused a traffic. Then, I stopped short. Blame is easy but it is a useless preoccupation. It doesn't improve you. After all, we are responsible for our fate. Not the driver. Not the rain.
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People have different ways of having fun. In fact, if their ways look weird to you, probably yours looks weird to others, too. So, if you think you are cooler than other people, think twice. You are just like everyone else --- happy, cool and beautiful.
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