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Infinitely many are the things in this world we live in. Most of these things,however, come and go, increase or decrease or even change into something totally different. Among all that there is, I'd say that the one constant thing on earth, and everywhere else, is time. Everyone declares that time is gold, but when I hear that overused phrase, I start to believe that gold isn't that valuable anymore. Often, I observe people playfully doing things that aren't worthwhile, thinking that time will wait for them. I, for one, tend to bum around even though I know that I will feel the pressure of time. This pressure can actually be felt in almost everything you do. For instance, in basketball games, the players on the court start to fold under the gripping pressure due to the time on the game clock running out. During those deadlined activities, the sense of urgency that time is running out is indeed a dominant feeling because you know time is something that you may never regain nor slow down.
I remember getting that feeling just like it was yesterday.
The bell rang, and a sigh of relief heaped over the class. The teacher bid the class the all-too-familiar goodbye and thank you. Excitedly, the class, like soldiers, stood up simultaneously, with the eardrum-breaking sound of the chairs and tables rubbing against the concrete floor resonating. Sluggishly, we replied to our teacher, and started rushing out of the room in a way similar to the way fanatics run after their idols so that we could open our new and still clean lockers. It started to crowd, with so many of my classmates impatiently waiting to prepare for their supposed freedom, which in their minds, they temporarily obtain as they exit the campus. As I slowly made my way to the exit of the campus, passing through a couple of flights of stairs, I felt as if a bullet had just been fired. Suddenly, I remembered that I had a big long test which I was going to take the next day. Not to mention, I had a bulk of work to do, most of which was to be needed or submitted the following day. From then on, I started to panic, but I had managed to keep the cool and relaxed face despite the fact that I was struggling with my hands terribly weakening due to the weight of my bag. I started to walk a little more briskly, as if someone was running after me but I had to make sure that I wouldn't draw much attention. When I was just several meters away from the grilled gate, I spotted my fetcher, in her bright-colored shirt, patiently waiting and standing by my car that was parked outside. I showed the young-looking and familiar guard on duty my identification card with the green stripe, signifying that I can exit school without a fetcher. I greeted my always-present dad who was at the front of the car, solving sudoku puzzles, one of his favorite pastimes. Then, the car started and smoothly, because of my dad's sound driving skills, we made our way home, passing through the zigzag and narrow roads into a dead end, beside it my slightly hidden domicile. Hurriedly, I stepped out of the car, banged the wooden door, and entered my white house, as my friends would playfully call it. Regularly, when I would reach the house, I would relax, take my time after a long day in school. However, today was different, I had a big task at hand, which was to finish all my work, especially because I had to study for a long test, before my bedtime, or else my dad would get furious. So, without wasting time, I ran to the top of house through again, several flights of stairs, but this time wooden ones, to where my room was, and I speedily took a shower. When I finished, I grabbed my clothes and put them on without even looking at the wide mirror beside the bathroom. Afterwards, I quickly went to my study area, filled with old and new books and notebooks, and strategized on what I had to first. As I was doing this, I felt this sort of excitement yet at the same time the pressure, the pressure of time. I had planned to study for the long test last so that there wouldn't be any distractions, and so that I could remember the things I studied more eaisly. So, i searched extensively for a sheet of paper I needed to answer for Filipino in my bulky black bag, which was a mess because of the scattered and crumpled sheets of paper. I quickly answered the paper, but then I had to make sure that my answers were correct. Then, after inserting the slightly crumpled paper into a yellow clearbook, I had to study for some graded recitations, specifically in Science and Social Science. I memorized facts and details that I read on the old-looking books and repeated these things to myself several times so as no to forget. For English, I even had to use the computer so that I could finish the 5-sentence paragraph which I needed to submit the next day. I even had to read our interesting novel just so I could answer a test the next day. Don't forget that I even had to go downstairs to eat the sumptuous dinner that had been prepared.
Then, I checked the round yellow clock that was attached to the rough white wall in my brother's room. It was already nine o'clock. I quickly calculated that there was just about an hour before my sleeping time. I flashed a smile since I thought that I would easily make it, so I took my time in studying. However, as I had started studying and reading my Math notebook filled with notes, the operations and steps weren't that familiar to me anymore. On some recycled graphing paper, I practiced solving some problems, and I noticed that I hadn't answered any of them correctly. I picked up the pace, setting deadlines for each lesson which was to be part of the coverage on the next day. I knew that I had to balance between studying well and sleeping on time. I looked around, seeing the dark sky, and concentrated on my work. I took it one step at I time. I rushed it, but still with a sense of accuracy in answering the complicated math problems. Alas, I finished, with five minutes left. I felt relief and happiness surge through every part of body, and even my soul. I felt successful since I was able to beat time, something many people have a hard time beating. Even as I write this down, I feel the pressure. To me, this pressure is a blessing. It gives me a different kind of feeling that I never experience anywhere else. When time comes, I guess I'll just have another date with it.
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