Dear February, let’s go about this slowly

It’s March 29 and I’m still writing about February. Looking back from last month, who would’ve thought then that we were weeks away from being stuck in a lockdown? I know I cannot talk for everyone, but many could not have foreseen this situation.

I honestly thought about skipping this February entry because March slammed itself upon us with such gravity that needs to be resisted and voiced out. So far, I can cope through escape and humour because I’m lucky to be working for an employer that still pays and the money lets me and my family enjoy a bit of privilege. Also, as an adult and parent, I must tend to various obligations of winding layers that all keep me intact — even if sometimes, I just want to disappear or be a mutant cockroach:

~I have gotten back into RPG gaming, we have an active Netflix subscription, I have a short read-list that I intend to complete this time, I installed TikTok to witness cringefest (but I’m not hating), I joined a cat love group, my newsfeed is a radar of shitposts that make me happy, I still have stupid contacts on Facebook whose thoughts never cease to amuse, I still get to keep a job for a piece of normalcy and it makes me hold on to what is left of my capacity to be a productive person, we have two super cats at home, and I still have my family that anchors every fucking reason why I need to be responsible because the plan is for all of us to survive.

March is already holding my two hands with a crippling force but I don’t want to forget about what February felt like. It would be a waste to miss the chance of writing about last month when it could be what I need to remember in the future (if there is one).

February felt like an alternate reality now. I remember killing time in Lazada to look for a swimsuit just last month. On Valentine’s, my dates were people in the carpool. Traffic was horrible that night and the three of us passengers “slept together” for almost four hours. The next Monday, it was Paolo’s birthday. I woke up a little past 5:00 in the morning so we can leave for a daybreak jog and have a hearty breakfast at a high place swelling with trees and fresh air.

Our orders took a while to be served but the beef tapa came in a large share and was neatly plated with an herb, which I think was coriander. I helped myself to a mug of iced coffee, with milk that seemed mindfully blended in the right amount so it will respect the java and not spoil the drink.

~At that time, in the middle of having breakfast for less than a hundred bucks at a place with dusty tables and chairs, I was 100% in love with life.

Hi Paolo, I said I would write about you in my February entry. That was what I thought, which is why the collage turned out this way since I made this prior the CoViD-19 chaos. But the present happened and this is what I ended up writing.

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