Indulgence

city stories

as texted to me by my Dad
You have to fight and conquer your demons or you will pass them on to your children.

I was born in Bacolod but I was raised in Manila. When I was around 2 years old, my parents moved to the city thus making me the only real Manila-boy amongst my family. I have always felt a connection with the city and for some strange reason, whenever I desperately need a ride, there's a jeep making one last round even if one doesn't usually pass at that hour anymore. I can't seem to get lost in the streets of the city. I can always find my way around. I've been spared (so far) from any sort of violence that you hear about; and considering the times that I keep and the hours I find myself walking in the streets. I've been very, very lucky. May I even dare say that I feel a connection with the city -- that it somehow protects me, watches over me. That may be a very naive way of speaking, but it's true. I feel like I understand it. For the longest time I could never imagine myself ever leaving Manila for a long period of time.

Things are changing. I still love this city; but I'm wanting more from my life. Things are getting a little too... I don't know, routine? I really don't know. It's probably just my state of mind right now. But at the moment, every chance I get, I leave town. This coming weekend, I'm off to Batangas again with my cousins. I've been thinking of moving to the beach for good. I've been dying to go out and travel and even disappear from here for years. I'm scared of becoming static and I fear that is where I am.

All the stories I want to tell are here in my head. It's here and it won't go away. It just needs the time for me to write it. It's time that I don't seem to have much of. All these things that I want to write and I can't write `em. Ever felt like you wanted to explode? I feel that now. I want to explode and in the glory of the combustion, words just start flying out of me. It would be a mixture of sound, language and the written word.

But this is just a side-note. It's not what I really want to say. There's something else and I cannot say it. I am kept silent by my respect for some people. There is more that I want to say but I keep silent because I respect the privacy of the people involved.

Until then, I'll keep thinking about other things until all is sorted out.

(pictures taken by Jaypee sometime last year)

posted by wanggo @ 1:08 AM