March 5, 2011 3:37 a.m. in one of those road trips i have learned to love and to dread. I have embraced all the bus rides of my life, uphill or downhill, but stepping into an unknown ground surrounded by ridiculously strange faces is never short of -- fearful. Especially so today, when it is drizzling non-stop, and is not even morning. I appreciate my age all the more; now, i don't command attention.
4:25 a.m. Breakfast, after an hour of bus ride (again!)..not because I'm hungry but because it's rather early. And so here, a cup of coffee after another to ward off sleep as later in the day, i will dance the fatigue away. It's funny how all the crazy running taught me to look forward to more roads.
March 6, 9:18 p.m. back to the streets again, bus ride after another. Along the road, I am waiting for the last ride that will take me home (I thought!). Afraid to miss my bus (just any bus, for that matter!), I grab my provision -- a bottle of water and P5.00 worth of peanuts from a dirty stall. A new self is born -- and I'm loving it.
March 7, 4:15 a.m. dark, and rainy. The bus is headed elsewhere. I need to stop and get another ride -- the experience is no longer alien to me as I have done this several times in the last 6 months. Walking in the dark pavement, alone and unafraid -- Is this me now?
Bus ride after bus ride after bus ride! How so much like my self craving for spontaneity -- for once, I want to do the thing I like most, without responsibility -- without thought...but in doing so, I might not be lucky to get home...