After being here in the United States for so long, I am finally going back to the Philippines. Months ago I was very homesick, but now I am saddened to leave because Pasadena feels like my home already.
Just when I have finally adapted to the situation, it changes, and somehow I just feel a tad bit too tired already for starting all over again. I have to worry again about those alleged akyat-bahay neighbors who hit my apartment 2 years ago. I have to commute again with the jeepneys, instead of driving a car which I have been quite gotten accustomed to around here. And second worst of all, I am going back to sleeping in a small apartment with no air-conditioning and television.
The Worst thing of all is that I feel there's no place for me in Manila. It is a very unwelcoming place, unlike her where people greet you in the elevators, and strangers often smile to each other down the hallway. Where people open the doors for you, wait for you in the elevator, and treat you out on you birthday instead of the other way around (typical Filipino custom). In Manila, people just keep on complaining of what they don't have, what they should have, and even the things they are lucky to have that others don't. I hate Manila; somethinh I realized today, when the truth of coming home finally sank in on me.
Ok, maybe that is not the entire truth. Another side of the story I guess is that there's no girl I am going back to in Manila; and that perhaps more than anything else saps my energy and sense of purpose. I am bringing my meaningless existence back to a place that sucks. At least here, TV and Lego occupies my time.
Somehow I don't just feel like going back. But I must, and that alleviates some burden while adding some more too.
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