Hopeful, as he left the country with promise of gold. Focus, as he set his goal upon landing on the desert land. Brave, as he fought homesickness and natural disturbances. But not last night; the dark night dictated that he is nowhere to run.
His night ended with I-pity-myself syndrome. He enumerated reasons that made his eyes welled up with tears signifying that he’s hopeless and lost stance. Images of his current situations and unavoidable circumstances came in one by one. Before he was fallen into slumber I saw in his eyes how he pitied his life now. Delayed and cut salary, no internet connection and computer, sick love ones, sold celphone, unpaid matriculation, egg and chicken wings festival every meal, high-tower debts, and inconvenient accommodation not to magnify the raging bed bugs and malfunctioned desert cooler were written on his heart and inscribed on the palm of his hands; far different from his life before and expected life in the foreign land.
I wanted to say to him that all will be well but I am of no in position. Also, I wanted to quench his I-pity-myself syndrome but I was at fear
He removed his shirt, scrub suit pants and said his prayers; laid his body after receiving the blatant dictation of the night without warning that made him exhausted. His body will be soaked again with non-humid perspiration as he waited patiently for the slumber to call the end of the night.
Wish I could do something to get him out of the jaded powerful box. Wish I could see him again hopeful, focus and brave. I just wish.