I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
The rainbow after the downpour and the pot of gold at the edge.
The moment of clarity in my drunken stupor.
The 12th step in the program.

I already missed the effing deadline.
I have just a few more to go.
And then I will be free.
I will finish all this work tonight.
I promise.

Then, I graduate from my MA this Saturday. Master in Comparative Literature. I am convinced, my re-education.
On Wednesday, the grade 8 kids move on to high school. More goodbyes. Will grin and bear it.
Summer will officially begin and I will jump on a plane to Boracay to rest and read and write and run and do yoga every single day, for ten whole days.
First thing is first, my short story and then the funeral of all funerals.
I have one guest, who will probably weep with me.
Another goodbye.

I can hardly keep my eyes open right now, though.
My body is rebelling from not doing yoga and from eating bad food.
I am sleep deprived and my back is killing me.
Part of the job.
I signed up for this.

My heart is intact, though.
So this is a good thing.

Like I said, light. There is light at the end this dark tunnel.
And man, this pink light is so bright, it is taking my fatigue away.

grateful slice: hope and things reaching their inevitable end

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