November 18, 2012
Vehicles are now piling up in this part of SCTEX in Tarlac. No, I’m not driving – inside the bus, yes, on my way back to Manila with my friends. Technology really has a way of enabling us to do what used to be unimaginable not so long ago. As of writing, the orange sky is still silently crawling its way to vanishing, and in just a little while the sky will be a dark cloth that will blanket the entire visible universe. The kid passengers started singing and chanting lively as if the uncontained spirit of excitement to be home had exploded from their core, started spreading through their veins, and needed to escape. While the more aged ones, to whom the work and stress of the long-travel undertaking must have really took a toll on, are quiet and resting, at least physically, I believe.
To my right is an orange-painted sky with dark blue clouds; to my left is still a light blue sky and dirty white cottony clouds, struggling to fight the daunting darkness, or may be just awaiting the latter’s arrival, just like how every day is. But the past two days have not like been how an “every day” has been for me. I and my friends went to Baguio – the second time I have been to the cold city up north. Since 11pm of Friday night, we’ve been through a lot of adventures: fun, exciting, unexpected, exhilarating, frustrating, frightening, disappointing, surprising, calm, amazing, candid, tranquil, genuine, unbelievable and certainly, unforgettable.
I really believe that an hour of honesty makes a better friendship than a decade of hi’s and hello’s. Though I’ve known them for quite a long time, I never thought I would learn from these people much more than I had until these barely two days of freedom. These wonderful guys –Tanjo, Jed, Benson, Jesse, Jessa, Betsy, Bambie and Ces – they made me realize and learn things only I could have through an experience with them. Some things I appreciated the value of more than before. And I am happy I went on this trip with them. I am sure they are too.
I guess today would not end like how a typical day would. But here’s to hoping I’ll get to write one day, that this kind of day is how my “every day” already is.
It’s already dark, and I know I am closer to home. We are.
Gerald
