I’m not going to say that to her face, of course, since we just finished crying a few days ago. This here is home.īut as much as I want to say that it’s still the same childhood home I often came home to on Christmases, especially since my grandmother is here, there’s a certain hollowness to it that hurts my heart. I’m not staying at a stranger’s house, after all. Unlike other people, hindi ako namamahay, and I’m not at all troubled when I have to sleep somewhere else. Even as cars and motorcycles race through our street in the dead of the night, I’m not the least bit bothered since I’m deep asleep. Like every other metropolis, Quezon City never sleeps. There is that, and I get the rest of the day to myself. For us in the morning shift, there’s not much to worry about once lunchtime rolls in, and that’s one of the loveliest things about my working hours. I’m truly relieved that our workload is just the right amount to stress over during working hours- unlike before when it required us to stay well over our shift. Crisis hours like these mean that we’re left to our own devices in the meantime and we're not entirely sure what to do with all of this spare time in our hands except panic in a very chill way or chill out while also panicking internally. As I write this, it's currently 11 AM and our team at work is experiencing a system outage.

The half life of love is forever