Places I've Been # 1 - Not For A While Now

 This down here is a little map I got from Google (and I had great difficulty in this endeavor because technology hates me) to give you guys an idea of where I go. It's a part of Quezon City that speaks so much about my past. I've lived in countless places dotting the face of QC and walked its streets many a time.

Now, I really started this blog so I could show you guys where my two little feet take me when we feel like having a long walk. This is usually accompanied by a bottle of cold water and my mobile phone playing load walk-y music. I haven't walked in such a long time that I got so agitated.

After hanging out with some school buddies yesterday, I headed back to San Juan where I currently reside. The sun was searing my (recently) bald head. My sweat was soaking my tank-top almost through to my school uniform (because I go to a Catholic institution; jsyk, I'm not very in with the religion thing).

Anyway, I really wanted to take my time going "home" for me to be able to talk to myself without all the humbug of the city contending with the voices in my head.

 

"Home", as the quotation marks suggest, is never the place for me. Home to me is the feeling where my soul feels safe and cozy. Home literally means where my heart is (which is the south where my loving girlfriend, Wina, lives). I like to differentiate home from house for obvious (or not so obvious) reasons. Home to you guys is house to me. It can sound a bit weird I guess, but I've been through a lot of stuff and words hold so much meaning, using them precisely as I mean them becomes important.

So anyway - House. I currently live at my friend's place near my place because 1.) my house is boring. There is literally no means of entertainment there and I'm tired of listening to my dear mother shout at whoever the heck she's shouting at 2.) my friend's house is so much more awesome (cannot make it more redundant than that) since Phoebe, Dahl, and Prince are such fun Minecraft buddies 3.) there is internet there where I can commune with humanity via the interwebs. He lives where the blue arrow is pointing. That's where I go for refuge.

The blue and green lines are the roads that take me to school (red arrow). The blue line connects to the green one and follows the same path (duh they can see that; way to state the obvious lol). These to paths are what I usually use, riding jeeps, tricycles, walking, and whatever way that could possibly get me to my school.

Yesterday though, I took a different route to get my mind off of things and to actually spend some alone time with myself. I was supposed to take a left from school and walk down Gilmore, but the heat wasn't very friendly and D. Rodriguez was filled with cars at the time (or so I thought) so I only veered away from my usual route when I got to N. Domingo. From there I walked to Granada all the way down to the Ortigas-Santolan crossing and took a right up Santolan all the way to my friend's place.

That doesn't sound like much now does it. Well the thing with walking (for me anyway) is that it allows me to get into my own head. During this walk, I was constantly talking to myself about how Wina was leaving for Vietnam.

Wina going to Vietnam for five days. That doesn't seem too long. No it's not too long, but I'll miss her all the same. I hate that aching feeling in the chest when it's hard to breathe and a touch from her would make it better. Sounds a little cheesy, but that's how it feels for me when I'm missing my certain someone. My certain someone helps me stay alive and sane. Wina going to Nam for five days is like five days without a respirator. But hopefully there's interwebs in Nam so we can talk over chat or somesuch.

And anyway, there are some things that I want to return. I'm not very good with these things but I've got some stuff in mind that'll hopefully be the joy of someone. I suck at hiding stuff. So Wina, when you get back, I'm taking you out and we're going to have a very fun day.

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aside: I never realized how it is to write a blog. Half the time I'm writing about the stuff that happened, a quarter of the time I don't know how to express it, a quarter of the time I do other things. Damn this is really hard, but it seems like a lot of fun. Hope I don't start stressing over this.