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Just a few hours left until a rounded leather ball filled with air and made of 6 faces are being fought over by the yellow-blue guys versus the white-black guys. Some might call it as a match for revenge, some a battle of strategy, I call it the ‘true’ final. It doesn’t really matter what I call it though, celebration belongs to the winning team anyway.

Silence echoes and a piece of big black box made from a mixture of glasses and plastic is currently sitting peacefully atop its life-long companion—a juxtaposed drawers forming a block of metals clutching tightly to a panel of bricks. An extension of it’s tail pierced through the wall as it sings unheard words.

“Look at me!”

“Give me power!”

I remain silent, ignoring its wailing as I continue to play a chain of unsynchronized tunes in front of a bright black box. But this box is different, it radiates a flow of fluid motions as long as my music is playing—like a duet. It is also my choice of connection to the outside world. Within it, choices are unlimited and options are infinite. To laugh or to cry? To be baffled or to be puzzled? Either will arrive at the same future, two countries sending their best elevens into a war at no man’s land—no guns, no bullets, only howls of support. Until then, I will have to find alternatives to keep my eyes opened.

PS: It’s 11:30PM and the match starts at 03:00AM.

–A.N.

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