moving is living.


one night in boracay, i dreamed she didn't want to be my friend any more. she didn't say why. she told my coworker, kayla, the reason why, and kayla just looked at me like i had done something awful. but i didn't know the reason. all i knew was that we weren't going to speak to each other ever again. and it was kind of upsetting, but i think that a big part of me didn't care much at all. i really liked up in the air because i think the main character had it right. all other people do is make that backpack a little heavier. i don't want to feel the straps digging into my shoulders anymore.

the fact is, i don't miss anything, anyone, or any place at all. it's kind of sad, and maybe it's not entirely true, but it's what i've been feeling lately. i leave seattle, i leave sacramento, i leave manila, and it's like nothing. not a damn thing at all. i lie down in a hotel bed and i think, well, this might as well be my bed in seattle. and then this might as well be my bed in my parents' home. all that's gonna happen is that i'm gonna lie down and i'm gonna look at the ceiling and i'm gonna wonder when i'll ever feel okay about anything ever again.

my aunt and my uncles really want me to move here. everyday, it's pretty much the same speech. you know, you're not a spring chicken anymore. you know, you should take advantage of your ate's connections while you can. you know, your masters program will be a lot cheaper over here. you know, you're gonna love it over here. but then i see all the young women in their yellow sm uniforms, all the security guards who don't do anything but pat your lower back, all these broke-ass filipinos who would do anything - and i mean anything - for a u.s. citizenship, or even just a fucking visa. and then i remember that i am just a privileged idiot who takes every good goddamn thing for granted.

today, i ate a bunch of oysters with my parents and uncles and cousins. i swam in the hotel pool yesterday, and yes, i think at twenty-six, i can finally swim (although not very well). i went bowling with grace, and i scored a 116. all my relatives ask if i have a girlfriend in the states. my mom jokingly says i should get married, but i know she isn't really joking. all i want to do, though, is get wasted and go clubbing. i wanna suit up and hit up titty bars. i wanna get lit and clear the buffet and then feel awful when the high wears off.

i want to stop feeling bad for wanting.

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