Before leaving Ateneo this evening
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When I saw the orange, 6:00 pm sky this evening, I just had to sit down on the bleachers in front of the Manila Observatory. It was a quiet evening: the field in front of me was clear and the trees surrounding it were very still despite the cool wind blowing behind me. From afar were boys playing, but I could only imagine hearing their grunts, their voices, and the sounds of their treading feet.
Sitting on the bleachers, my sandals gathering ashes as my feet were swinging and shuffling over loose soil, I reminded my self that I had to look at the sky. You have to look at the sky. You have to look at the sky. Look at the sky while you're here.
And so I watched the sky--from bright orange, its color turned pink, purple, and then black.
Turning my attention to the clear field in front of me, thrice I forced a smile and told my self that no one will be coming for me no matter how hard I wish for it. For 15 minutes I sat there while listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird. Behind me was the full moon looking mentholated and sharpened by its luminosity. It could have fallen from the sky. It could have hit me while my back was turned against it. It could have divided me into two while I was mouthing the line, "bye-bye, baby, it's a sweet love."
But the wind just coldly blew and I just quietly sat there alone--there was no one to say goodbye to.