Losing on Purpose

    Staring at the ceiling made me feel a little guilty as to why I'm doing nothing on the first days of my sembreak, and realized that there's really nothing I can do about it, so I shifted and stared at the wall instead. It was like I was trapped in some mechanism, where the cogs and conveyor belts were moving slower by the minute, and my body was being dragged along these mechanical parts, allowing me to get by. My life itself, already took a sharp curve and left me on the lines of an academic learning stage where you should be used to sleeping for an hour, and making yourself believe that instant noodles, topped with vegetables, already completes the "glow" part of your food pyramid. As Christmas approaches I wonder just how many people are left who still remember me or know me in some way. So I took a detour from my astounding way of living to visiting some of my peers, to hopefully leave a grain of my presence. Making them remember me is hard work I might say, especially my old aunt who keeps forgetting my name and insists that her guesses are always spot on. I convinced myself to just look at the brighter things in life as I received a pile of pastries from her to share to my friends. Little did she know that currently my friends are in some other space in time where I would not be able to give their share. My feet also reached the grounds of a local gym and God knows I tried to shape up. After a productive half of my vacation, I'd really say that I was proud of myself. I give credit to myself, for trying. As the sunset of my vacation was finally peering out,  I went back to the staring competition I was once participating in, and hoped that someone or something would make me lose in this contest against a professional player.