Just past week, my mind had been running trains of thoughts that exceeded the speed of my comprehension. I feel like my brain is an abused F1 circuit. Ferrari. McLaren. Schumacher. Raikkonen. I don’t feel the need for speed but why is this happening? God. I swear to you, I didn’t take any drugs!
Geez, that must be the product of awareness coming into surface. It’s therapeutically a curse for some. I traveled to some places, alone. Solitary Traveling is a such bliss. Solitude is a sweet gift a person can give to himself. Well, that doesn’t work for everyone. Some are phobic of being alone. While some cherish such loneliness like a priceless gift.
“I don’t want to be alone. I never wanted to be alone. I only want to do things on my own.” I found this written in my notebook. It was dated way back 2004. It took me a long time to realize the fullness of its beauty. Before, it was only a random rambling. Now, it turned out to be a way of life.
Going back to my travel, it turned out to be one of best gifts I ever given to myself. I never traveled this far alone, but I felt a great deal of excitement flowing through my veins and a pulsating anxiety exploding in my heart.
First, I went to an unfamiliar holy ground located in Lindogon, Simala, Sibonga. I met many ladies there. You know what I mean.
The moment I set foot inside the sacred place, I felt goosebumps. Then a painful sensation was burning in the back my neck. That may sound ****** but I am sure that wasn’t just my imagination. I was completely entirely utterly absolutely sober. But whatever I was feeling is not anywhere near an ordinary sensation. A part of me said that it is maybe because of my sins I committed, just to give myself an explanation about the pain. But that didn’t ease it. The feeling even got stronger when I read the letters from different people. A letter from a person who got his cancer cured and many more of that kind. Thank You Letters from board passers. What else? Reading personal stories of miracles made my mouth form an O. I never thought that miracles can be also horrifying. And as I was lining to meet the Lady of Lindogon, the feeling of heaviness pours in the back of my neck. I carried that kind of sensation throughout my visit.
And then I walked away. It was almost 1:00 pm. I can feel the sun’s anger burning my skin. I went down and got out from the monastery. The Habal-Habal driver was waiting for me. He was such a nice person. His personality was exactly the opposite of what he looked like. I asked him a lot and he might have found some sort of fun in answering my questions. On the way down back to the street, we passed through the healing beauty of nature. When were already down the street, I noticed that the feeling in the back of my neck had left me.
“Would I go back to Cebu or would I go somewhere else?” The answer didn’t come easy. It took me haft an hour to decide what to do. I chose the latter. Sitting on a wooden bench along the road waiting for a bus, I was starting to entertain my companions. Fyodor Dostoyevsky, A Park of Marlbolo Reds, and Tanduay 5 Years. For a long time, I didn’t notice that the people who were waiting for a bus chose to stand instead of sitting beside me until an old man sat beside me asking me for a light.
Who would want to sit with someone drinking a bottle of rhum straight without rocks on a very hot afternoon?
After the long wait, the bus arrived. Sitting on the back, I was drinking it along the way. Passengers were staring at me as if I was going to be a criminal any moment. Their minds must have images of me stabbing someone. Tungab2x bai. Maayo nalang ni kaysa mag drugs! And there was this fat old woman in front of me smoking her lungs out.