Living in a small town made me think: What if, in the future, I live in a small, provincial city, perhaps Calamba or San Pablo in Laguna? Provinces are really the best place to take a break.

Then again, I realized:
It’s so quiet there. too quiet for someone who slept hearing cars pass by even in the jet black night.

The air’s so clean. too clean for someone who grew up inhaling poisonous air.

There are fewer people there. too few for someone who got used to hours of traffic and perpetual gridlock.

Life’s very much laid back there. Too slow for me, who lived in a fast paced world. A world where slow walking will lead you nowhere. A world where being relaxed will get you mugged and robbed. A city that never sleeps. Eyes that stay open through the night.

I guess I’m just looking for a break, and with break, I mean around a month, or even a year or more…
…But I can’t live there forever.

As much as I’ve learned to live in a place full of green grass, hectares of farmland, and flocks of sheep and cattle, I will never let go of the place I’m used to be: Scores and scores of people rushing to their places, fighting their way to the Metro or the bus station. High rise buildings. islands and grasslands of concrete. Bright night lights. 3-level flyovers and underpasses. One vast metropolis.

I can live in a province, but I love the city. I can stay here forever.


She might be filthy, deranged, and outright, but I grew up with her and she is everything in my life before I went to college.




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