plan a

I am here again. Sitting on one out of two green chairs in the balcony of my parent's room. The balcony is bigger than my room, situated in the front part on the second floor of my house. The crystal blue sky spreads wide as the sun showcases its radiance, making it even more visibly stunning to see. The green plant, not too big yet solid, buried half of its body in the soil, wearing white vase as its clothing. And me, clad in a red sweater and a loose and short, floral print skirt. The wind is blowing so heavily, it's easy to hear the sound of metal thumping on my neighbor's rooftop. My brother and his friends are playing basketball in a small basketball court that once was a parking lot, renovated by my father just right in front of my house. I, who sits in the balcony, have direct access to the sound of the balls being dribbled. And this evening, very oddly, the birds my dad owned are not chirping. But it doesn't make the situation any less comforting. I sit before my laptop, my phone is being charged on the other green chair. And now I am writing as the calendar shows it's the eighth of December today. Tomorrow is probably going to be the UWC registration opening. In front of me, presents on the table Michelle Obama's book, Becoming. At the top of the pile, my diary is unlocked, I was just done writing my thoughts. I wrote the 'Why' it should be UWC. And the 'What' is so special about my name, Legacy.

I came here because this is a moment to remember. And I am ready.