Three weeks ago, I kissed stability on the cheek, waved goodbye to habit, and left behind my familiar job in the heart of Sydney.
Two weeks ago, I gripped so tightly on my lover’s hand, fingers like an unyielding noose, as he drove me to catch a plane bound 4000miles away. The air was thick with sentiment, and we held our breaths as if underwater, not wanting to breathe in the smog of emotion.
Inevitably, things gotta give.
We came up gasping for air eventually, and the residue of heavy hearts streamed out quickly, wet and salty, during that final embrace at the departure gate.
Yesterday, I got on the smallest plane of my entire life from Boracay island back to big city Manila. How unpleasant to be a crouton in a tossed salad, I thought through the terrible turbulence.
Small holiday over, and now it starts.
The next half a year is my time of self-exploration. Crawling back to my roots and living in the homeland, jobless and a vagabond, I’ve committed to finding creativity, passion and soul.
Let me be a fugitive from mediocrity. Let it start now.





