As if we knew each other for ages
I recalled how you’d told me: “To share is to care.”
And I started to share with you all my problems, my worries, and my sorrows. Ah, how many of them I’ve got. Too many for a person who has just recently entered this world. I find it hard to digest that while in one hemisphere there’s the sun shining down, illuminating peoples’ countenances, the other is shrouded in darkness. And people there are cuddling up to each other, eager to survive the freezing night. They exchange their fluids, and their diseases, barter their goods and swap their identities. No, listen, I’m not that illiterate, I’m not talking about the Northern and Southern hemispheres. I’m inferring the hemispheres that are formed when you cut Earth vertically in two halves. Just hypothetically, of course. And all these my words are just a figure of speech. What really worries me are not people exchanging their fluids, but the instability and fragility of this world. They kept telling us: all for our future generation, all for you, children. Rejoice! Together toward a better, happier future. By my humble calculations, this future should have come two days ago. On my way to bed, I intentionally pretended that I forgot to linger for a while near the front door to turn the key in the lock. But, the truth be told, I didn’t have the slightest opportunity to do so, as you were calling me by my last name pretending to be annoyed that it’s taking me so long to come to you. “Hurry,” you were saying. “Come to me, I’m so cold”. You also believed in the outcome of my calculations. So, we left our door open that night, in anticipation of a better future to come the next morning. Indeed, the future came that morning, and as it always happens, it immediately became the present. But was it better? I cannot tell, because I did not wake up that morning.