It was one of those nights, when one's body clock keeps a sleeper away from slumber. For me, it's those wretched midnight spells. Unable to repeat the REM after a three hour nap, I woke up, only to say goodnight to Baabaa and went on to finish the last leg of this season's raketship.
Writing the children's article took two hours to put to sleep. And when I'm done, I checked the time and it's already past 4 in the morning. "Time to start my day," I said while shutting down my laptop. No matter how dank and dark it was downstairs, I went to the kitchen to heat some water.
I have to be at the monasterio before sunrise.
It was raining when I left the house. Saw the next-door neighbor open her store for early risers inside the compound. The water puddles mirrored the lighted stairwell of a multi-floor apartment. My umbrella held its shade, despite the freezing rain pouring in. It didn't help that I wore a light shirt and a walking shorts going to my destination. The LRT Station, while still empty of human presence was already showing traces of activity. There was a lone teller who gave me the magnetic ticket and the security guards roaming the platform for any soul stupid enough to jump across
and fly.
and fly.
Inside the train, laborers and students were already filling the empty seats. Meanwhile I turned my gaze outside, to the distant lights of a waking cityscape.
"Indigo sky. Lovely. This is the reason I love daybreaks." I posted on my Twitter. I've always been a sunset person. The one you'd see staring blankly into space as the sun disappears on the horizon. But there are times I turn my back and crane my neck to the east. It's difficult for a nocturnal person to chase the sunrise, but seeing the world in slumber, about to open its eyes to a new day is a sight worth waiting.
The Santa Clara Church has always been a refuge in times of helplessness. The habit I got from my elders. I go to this place to seek divine intercession. Mom says I should write a letter to the nuns. But I digress. I tell myself,
God knows my reasons.
I used to go here late in the afternoons. To find bliss; to feel the earth moving as the sky swallows the sun. But these past two visits, I show up at sunrise, along with the geriatric flock who attends the morning mass. I skip the Eucharistic celebration because of personal beliefs. But one would find me at the spot where the candles give up their light.
God knows my reasons.
I used to go here late in the afternoons. To find bliss; to feel the earth moving as the sky swallows the sun. But these past two visits, I show up at sunrise, along with the geriatric flock who attends the morning mass. I skip the Eucharistic celebration because of personal beliefs. But one would find me at the spot where the candles give up their light.
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A quiet reflection at the monastery and the hearty breakfast at Jollibee along Katipunan would turn out to be just a stop over. For what the early morning trip really gains to accomplish is to stay up late so I can wake up my partner for his job interview at 10.
What I didn't see in the pattern is that he can simply rouse himself from sleep and refresh his memory about the subject he will about to talk. And that's what he did when I got a text message while chomping my Champ. Unlike the last time we both woke up late for his job interview, this time, he thought of reading his notes before showing up to the human resource representative.
"Uwi ka na..." He said.
"Opo." I answered, before having a bite of the criss-cut fries. The limited offer I learned from an online acquaintance early that morning.
But the truth is, I'm not done yet. Not when I'm fully awake, and has no plans of turning around and sink beneath the growing mass of cars and trucks converging along Katipunan Avenue. Instead, the passage took me to the last remaining trees of Diliman, where daisies bloom on concrete islands and hovels - once homes to humble families - become ruins of a road-widening project.
The sun peeked through the clouds when I reached the great highway. Suburbanites from the north east line the intersection in hopes of finding a bus or an FX that will take them to their destination. The brutality of the chase; of grabbing an empty seat before a fellow passenger does might be too much for an unseasoned commuter. For someone who hardly goes to such ordeal, the dizzying road scene makes him appreciate living accessibly to his workplace.
Most people I've seen that morning have already reached their workplaces and schools when I reached my destination. A place full of life, but often overlooked because of shopping malls looming over the horizon. Though my head was filled with dreams of turning my home into an oases of greens. Learning from the past, the Eden project I had in mind must be approached with baby steps.
And I guess coming from this daybreak trip, I've figured where to start.
What I didn't see in the pattern is that he can simply rouse himself from sleep and refresh his memory about the subject he will about to talk. And that's what he did when I got a text message while chomping my Champ. Unlike the last time we both woke up late for his job interview, this time, he thought of reading his notes before showing up to the human resource representative.
"Uwi ka na..." He said.
"Opo." I answered, before having a bite of the criss-cut fries. The limited offer I learned from an online acquaintance early that morning.
But the truth is, I'm not done yet. Not when I'm fully awake, and has no plans of turning around and sink beneath the growing mass of cars and trucks converging along Katipunan Avenue. Instead, the passage took me to the last remaining trees of Diliman, where daisies bloom on concrete islands and hovels - once homes to humble families - become ruins of a road-widening project.
The sun peeked through the clouds when I reached the great highway. Suburbanites from the north east line the intersection in hopes of finding a bus or an FX that will take them to their destination. The brutality of the chase; of grabbing an empty seat before a fellow passenger does might be too much for an unseasoned commuter. For someone who hardly goes to such ordeal, the dizzying road scene makes him appreciate living accessibly to his workplace.
Most people I've seen that morning have already reached their workplaces and schools when I reached my destination. A place full of life, but often overlooked because of shopping malls looming over the horizon. Though my head was filled with dreams of turning my home into an oases of greens. Learning from the past, the Eden project I had in mind must be approached with baby steps.
And I guess coming from this daybreak trip, I've figured where to start.
