ENGLISH ESSAY

“My dear, I have some bad news: you have three more days left until you lose your eyesight.” As
a person who has eye problems and is forced to wear eyeglasses most of her life, I consider this as one
of the scariest things I hope I would never have to hear in the rest of my life. But considering the
damage my eyes have already sustained, sadly, this isn’t entirely impossible now. That is why thinking
about the things I would like to see in three days before I somehow lose my eyesight is no longer new to
me and I’ve made my choices years before. I’ve done a lot of thinking about it and I realized what I
wanted to see: I want to see the world. I want to take one last good look in everything I had
underappreciated while I still had the privilege of seeing. I want to engrave it to my mind’s eye for me to
recall for years to come. I want to see all sides of this beautifully cruel world and be able to say as I catch
my last glimpse of light: “Yes, I’ve lived in a good world,” and I’ll do it in three stops, with a companion,
and a journal.

On my first day, I’d go to the busiest city in the world: New York. I’d probably choose a night
flight in going there just so I can see the city come to life just as the sun rises. The moment I land in JFK, I
just know I’d be rushing to go to the different landmarks in the city so that I won’t waste any second of
the day. I imagine myself going first to the Empire State Building and riding the elevator to the highest
floor. After I take my time looking at the marvelous view, I’d probably visit the Statue of Liberty because
after all, how often can you see the colossal neoclassical sculpture of Libertas up close? Then I would
also ride the elevator all the way up to eat at the café found in Lady Liberty’s crown. After that is the
best part: getting to visit different kinds of restaurants and cuisines all over the world because what is
sightseeing without getting to taste all sorts of food? And as the sun sets on the first day, I’d go and visit
Time Square and relish in the sight of millions of people from every race and all walks of life mingle
together in this one big busy city and combined with the impressive collection of lights and screen, the
view in the Time Square is the perfect last sight to see in my one day in New York.

After a day in the busy city surrounded by millions of people, I’ve decided my second day be
spent in peace and quiet and one with nature. Thus, for my second day, I want to go camping. For the
place, it doesn’t have to be very far from home. It could be in my province in Quezon or deep in the
forests of Arizona; either way I just want to spend the day away from all the city noise and pollution. I
want to see the beauty of nature; something I don’t really see everyday. I want to walk around the
forest, build my own fire, and just breathe in the fresh air. Most importantly, I want to see the stars. As I
lay down for the night close to the campfire for warmth I want to gaze upwards and marvel at the
beauty in the sky. I want it that the last thing I see as I close my eyes for the night is the twinkling of the
stars that are unseen in the city skies beyond.

What I want to see in my last day as an eyesight-wielding person may be the most important
view of all: the faces of everyone and everything I love. From the covers of my favorite books, the
posters of my favorite bands, to the faces of my family, I want to see everyone and everything that has
loved, inspired, and helped me grow. No matter how impossible it may be, I want to memorize each and
every detail of their faces so that whenever I think of people who I know will support me in my darkest
times, their faces will come up, clear and vibrant. What I saw in the first two days cannot be compared
to the feeling of seeing their smiling faces for the last time. I’d spend the whole day staring at my family,
my friends, and relatives if I could. I just want to commit their faces to memory and to my heart for
years to come.
 As I go through the journey in my three days, I’d probably record every single thing in detail in
my journal and have my companion read it to me when I go blind. I feel like it’s the only way I can relive
everything I’ve seen and everything I felt as I go through it. Then again, this is only what I have planned.
Anything can happen in those three days. My flight to New York could get delayed, my stargazing
moments could get ruined by rain, or my relatives and friends could be busy. Thinking about what I
could do in my last three days of seeing has brought everything in a new perspective. We should all
appreciate what we have and not take anything that might be trivial, like eyesight, for granted.