As a very emotional person sans the drama, everything that happens in me are well-kept in my memories. The fact that things are usually melancholic, I still find some time to view the world as something majestic. And when moments of loneliness creep side by side with a deep longing, I reminisce things old and past.
I grew up as a very quiet person and this might surprise people as they know me as the funny and energetic one. It is probably a mask I am wearing all the time. For the smiles are not always a sign of being happy. Those wide eyes and stingy smiles are reflections of the pain inside, albeit, well-hidden.
There are things that I cherish most and one of them is my past: where I grew up, where I lived, where I studied and where I became aware of life's atrocities and surprises.
I remember the room where I was staying in our former home. It wasn't a big one, fitted with a small bed and table for writing or doing artworks, it was cramped and dark. I have my stacks of books in two bookcases, one bookcase inherited from my relatives and the other, custom-made by one of our workers at home to fit in the small space.
I transferred to a smaller space as my brother took ownership of the room when he got married. After a year or two in a smaller and darker enclosure, it was time to leave my turf and I did.
After all the many years I had been out of the country, I still look into going back to where I came from. Going back to where I grew up is still calling me every time I get to visit Manila, even if our old house is no longer there.
I believe that if I look back to my past, life or whereabouts, I will live the memories that made me a person that I am and the experiences that I learned from growing up in one humbling place.
