Prior to the time that I had my testical infection, after I played paraparaparadise at SM Manila, I would normally walk home. I would then pass a bridge named Jones Bridge. It is where the body of the kid who died in the ROTC issue was fished out. What I like about Jones Bridge is that, when I'm walking there the wind blows hard. And I always loved the feeling of my hair and face being blown. So anyway, this morning I found my yellow pads with notes. And I stumbled upon this poem that I wrote. here it is:

Jones Bridge
The mood was perfect
Blowing wind kissing my cheek
my hair on the same direction
a drizzle gently hits my face

I started to walk
to cross this concrete truss
Thinking about somethings
while I stepped on ahead

Turning to my left
aquatic plants came into view
slowing being washed away
vanishing from my perspective