The bad kind of Nostalgia

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Entering into Manila after how many months of not being there, I felt a lot of old things resurface: feelings I've had for particular events, particular situations, and particular people. I also realized how much I hate when people touch my things without my permission. If it isn't yours, why are you using it like it is? Please, for both our sakes, stop touching my stuff. Life'll go smoother for the both of us if you do.

Moving on:

When I walked along the "University Avenue", I remembered the days I'd walk to class from my dorm: carrying my heavy bag, keeping the glaring sun from hitting my eyes, with my thoughts on the future and my heart on a girl. Complicated times...

In some restaurants, like Yellow Cab or Teriyaki Boy, I remembered events and hangouts with some of the greatest friends I've ever made in my lifetime - a sort of family, if you will. They kept me strong, just like my real family and my US friends. What made them different was the fact that they were at least much closer than those who were halfway around the world. That, and the fact that they were all close to my age and just as crazy.
I also remember the many, many times I ate alone, wondering about my future: academics yelled at me in the face, telling me that my act ain't worth shit to anyone. My thoughts prophesied failure after failure - and it really wasn't too far off. Attraction to girls didn't help when added to the mix. One and another and another... how do I cope with it all? None of them cared, or so I thought...

Life in Manila was hectic, chaotic, and just plain insane.

I've hit bottom, and the only way to go is up.

So revisiting this place makes me wonder if going through it all before was worth it. As I was told earlier by my friend Eric, "If you could go back in time and undo the wrongs in your life, you'll only get different ones." He's right. And who knows? Maybe the different ones would be worse than the ones you already knew about.

Like I said, the only way to go is up.

You know the strange thing about it? Coming back here, it only made me wish I could stay. Even if the same stupid crap happens to me (minus a particular failure), I wouldn't care.

I guess this is a bad kind of nostalgia.

Comments

  1. the3jrNovember 1, 2010 at 9:46 AM

    after reading this again, i have a sudden urge to kidnap you and take you back here where you'll feel better :P

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yan YearsNovember 5, 2010 at 3:25 AM

    Thanks EJ :))

    ReplyDelete

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