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On 2.62

Where I came from, stepping out of the Liberal Arts building meant entering a realm contained in a skinny street. Here you found small units of students dismissing the increased potential of lung cancer by smoking their hearts out with those clean yet unknowing ones who may expire first with secondhand tragedies.

When you had time on your hands, you’d move into an air-conditioned place offering food and a place to sit, study and gossip. If you knew where to go, you could add drinking and gambling into your school day.

You tutor and be tutored. Win and lose money. Break and nurse heats. Spread and control rumors. Drink and get drunk. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It is in these routines that friendships start. You find people you’d call friends. You find friends you drift from but never forget. You find friends you learn to keep. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you find a friend to fall in love with.


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