Stolen

Today could have been any other day, but it is not.

It is that day that I hoped would never come—a day I thought would be a sad day. And it came. Today is a sad day.

It is sad because I did not expect it. Who would expect it, anyway? No one would dream that it would to them, much less wish, even for the sake of experience.

It is sad because it will leave a mark for the next nineteen months. I would be paying for something I will never be able to use again.

It is sad because a lot of memories is stored there—my fieldworks all over the Philippines, my trips in Europe and Asia, my bonding moments with my family.

It is sad because of the reality that we have attachments to material possessions; perhaps, as a result of a materialist world, of consumption, of the prevailing economics.

But then, there is always a bright spot in the midst of darkness. Though for now I cannot find it, and I cannot clearly see any signs of it.

For now, I have to find a replacement.

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Stolen

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