I always thought that it is I that was watching the world and her beauties. That the birds were singing to me as I woke up from a deep slumber. That the winds were caressing me whenever I feel bad on what I did. The water flow was the nature’s way of calming me. The oceans’ roar as a call to remind me I’m alive. I thought of all of it that somehow my mind just got lost to the complexity of the world, and I never wanted to come back.

But in reality, the world is the one who’s watching. She looks into the mouths that never cease to open. The smokes that are suffocating everyone and polluting the air we breathe. The mud finding its path to the clean pond. The oceans filled with people she doesn’t understand . I tried to stare at her, but what I saw are tears flowing down in her eyes.

The world is watching us, and it is the only thing she can do. She can only pour rain and remind us that even she’s in pain, she will never leave us, even if it hurts her, even if it means she will die together with her children ruining her.

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