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Reasons

  • Writer: Mark Angelo Pineda
    Mark Angelo Pineda
  • May 10, 2021
  • 2 min read

Updated: Oct 11, 2021

At 6:15 AM today, I rose from bed drowsy like a kid waking up at 7 PM after school and post-school games. The bed never looked that inviting last night, but that early, it was arresting. But work would start in less than two hours. If I skip it, I will miss an amount good enough to feed my dogs in two weeks.



So, I bathed and prepared my dogs’ breakfast (after all, it’s all about the dogs). By 6:45 AM, I was already cooking for my lunch. A kiss to Sky and the cloudies, then I left for work around 7:20 AM.


From the first minute I was awake up to now, four minutes before 2 PM, I keep recalling why I am doing all this. This juggling work and graduate studies at the expense of my own body (overdramatic but true).


I envy the long hours Via spends in her darkened room, only interrupted by the dogs. I envy Piolo’s modular arrangement, affording him all day at home playing the easiest role in the world: being a kid. On my way out, I found my mother caring for her potted ornaments. They contrast the pale faces of people leaving for work with their reasons known to their hearts only.


As if I have forgotten why a 21-year-old me has been trying way too hard, I wrote all this reasoning to help ease my exhaustion. So, it became clear that I do, too, have reasons for all this sacrificing.


My May 10th started past midnight. From 1 AM to 4 AM, I was figuring out which statistical tool to use for a 6-item problem set in a Statistics class. I was deprived from a 7-hour sleep but I had a glass of coffee. I was nearly surrendering to the bed, but I had reasons not to.


A good reason will help you rise no matter the season. No matter how you fared in your midnight study session, you will try again after your shift. Your weight to the chair while your mind to the problem set. Very well, you will sacrifice again and again in the name of your dreams.


Drafted May 10, 2021


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When the weight of the world moves with us, we readily save our tears in the bathroom. But on rare, moonlit nights, when we brave our very own eyes looking as though our mother's and swelling hearts that we still claim as ours, we write down our fears, big dreams, and that of anxiousness. For the said reason, this site exists.

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