Six and Lady D
As I strolled along the streets of Aurora Boulevard, I unexpectedly encountered an old friend. She appeared in the eyes of every passerby, radiating her timeless beauty. This time, however, her presence was more pronounced, exuding a newfound confidence.
Her mischievous smirk was more noticeable than ever, and I couldn't help but relish in that scornful look I had missed. I leaned in for a kiss and inquired about her recent endeavors.
She responded, "Nothing much, just taking a quick break. Life has been hectic lately, and I'm not sure why people are suddenly so aware of me. It's a strange feeling, not knowing how to embrace all this attention. Parties, homes, streets, and corners—everyone wants me around. I've been receiving countless calls from people of all genders, ages, races, and backgrounds. But I'm not too selective in my choices; you know how I cherish diversity. That's why I appreciate you so much. You understand me better than anyone. By the way, I've missed you. Care to join me for the sunset before I continue on my way?"
I couldn't resist her invitation. She was my favorite.
We found ourselves atop the Aurora footbridge, waiting for the sun to set. She remarked that since mountains were scarce in Manila, footbridges would have to suffice. I couldn't argue with that, as sunsets possess enchanting beauty no matter the location—mountains or not.
As we waited, she went on a little monologue about the serenity of twilight. She expressed her confusion regarding the invention of clocks. With the sun and stars guiding our way, why concern ourselves with time? She asked. It didn't make sense to her, nor to me.
I shared my thoughts, saying, "People seem more anxious nowadays, constantly tied to schedules, deadlines, and arrangements. Humans grow increasingly peculiar each day, but this peculiarity somehow appeals to me. Sometimes, I find solace in breathing the same air they do—the air filled with carbon monoxide, aerosols, and novel strains of viruses and bacteria.
What perplexes me about humans is their penchant for complaining. They lament about death as if it's an injustice, and they often complain about life itself, as if half the world possesses the secret to living."
Curious, she asked me how I manage to navigate through life.
I confessed, "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. Living can feel like a chore at times. We're all grasping onto life's fragile threads, never truly understanding the essence of it all. We strive to infuse our existence with richness and meaning. Some attempt to travel the entire planet or explore the depths of the ocean. Others engage in numerous romantic encounters, create art, or delve into scientific pursuits. But in the grand scheme, these are merely activities we undertake to fill our time. It may seem absurd and foolish, but I prefer to view it as a privilege to walk among courageous, albeit sometimes foolish, men."
She interrupted, "I see that you no longer dwell on thoughts of me."
"Hell no. I spent far too much time contemplating you during my youth. Nowadays, I find myself preoccupied with other perplexities, like love or the beauty of a sunset. Like, is the sunset in Manila as sublime as the sunrise in New York?"
"Silly girl. Perhaps someday, when we meet again, you'll understand."
"I hope not," I responded.
"Well, I must be on my way now," she announced.
"Where are you headed?" I inquired.
"Back to China," she replied.