By the time this blog post is up, I would probably be somewhere up North, backpacking my way through town after town, roaming recklessly like the eternal wanderer that I am, talking to people and asking for directions because your girl is forever clueless at navigation, getting to know strangers like I have never done so in life, meeting locals as if they are family (because, at least for now, they are), and finally circling my way around the northern coast of the archipelago — in search of nothing, in praise of everything.
One . . . two. . . three
The jeepney swerved to the left and to the right before it made a full stop at a gasoline station where its tank was filled with fuel: hot, brazen, and gold. I imagined the smooth texture of the combustible fluid sliding effortlessly down my throat, setting my body in flames. I remembered the film I saw once about a Buddhist monk who burned himself to death in 1963: how fire licked his skin, his robe, his being, and how he felt nothing. I wanted so badly to assume that he died feeling nothing.
It feels so peculiar typing the word April on this page.
It was only yesterday when my eyes glittered at the sight of fireworks on New Year’s Eve; only yesterday when we welcomed the zodiac year with towering wishes for good health and good fortune; only yesterday when I blew my candles away and embraced a brand new age of existence. Continue reading “April in a Nutshell”