Manila

There’s something about Manila that intoxicates me with emotion and nostalgia. The uncaring metro has witnessed too many blunders both human and nature. Its memories are in every curb.

Most days in Manila, I feel a strong wave of melancholy. There is always something to be sorrowful about. My daily route passes through a high end village, then through the slums and then through the busy highway outside the Sandiggan bayan. The combination is an unnerving diorama of social classism. I begin my day absolutely helpless to this inpenetrable reality.

Crawlers of old Manila are all looking for a fuck. There is always someone random who is lonely and looking for casual. It’s beautiful how two minds can meet thru loneliness. And that some need to strip themselves of all their reservation to survive the night. There can be plenty of people in a city but there are more who will still feel terribly alone. Waking up to nobody who cares is just a daily affair.

I like to walk the streets at night. Alone. Luckily, I’ve never been mugged or raped. Yes, I can be too reckless. It makes me ponder why crime doesn’t stop. Criminals will always be there in society. But victims are always at the wrong place at the wrong time because they have too much faith in the goodness of people. People are heartless. Manila teaches this in a didactic way and yet there are those who choose not to listen. Even me.