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His firm hands

His firm hands

Held mine tight whenever we’re at the mall, keeping me safe and not letting me stray off.
Paused and washed clean while in the middle of working on the machines just to help me fiddle w/ the toy robots too complicated for me to play alone.
Carried a mug around his office and maintains unfazed after downing bottles of beer in the middle of the day.
Patted me on my shoulder after agreeing to pay half for the playstation console I’ve been saving for almost 2 years with my allowance.

Felt dry whenever I held them, they were strong but weary. How I admire them as it showed me a glimpse of the struggle it took to get to where he was.

These were the hands that spoke to me during video calls, giving me a thumbs up and a nod after showing him around my home, my drawings, my work. These hands spoke to me when his voice could no longer do so.

And over a month ago, after over a decade of not seeing him, I arrived and held these familiar hands. They were still firm and dry as I remembered, but cold. These were the hands that battled cancer and pneumonia.


Rest in peace, Papa.


[RND] Bus Ride Thoughts

A few days in and I’m slowly getting the hang of this ‘vacation solo’ thing. Its not as different as it used to, I’ve been almost doing the same for a few years, just locked up in my room playing games and other hobbies). Only difference this time around is that I’m living on my own and not in my old home in Valenzuela.

But what struck me hard was how I slowly figured out what, to me, defines “home”. And a sad epiphany to it is, that whatever place where it has my stuff (consoles, home laptop) that has some decent net, it becomes my “home”. Kinda sad, but at the moment, it felt like that.

In the passed few years I’ve been going back and forth to Valenzuela from work, that entails around 3-4 hours of combined travel time daily. This leaves me with just a few hours left to just browse and watch before I sleep. Gaming comes in during weekends (and that’s how my backlog grew).

It’s always been like that: wake up, go to work, go back ‘home’, surf/lolz, sleep~ repeat. With very minimal interaction with the rest of the family. Despite having the extended family living in the same house, my shift didn’t allow me to hang around them at my leisure. And on weekends, since I put so much importance to get my gametime in, I end up locking myself in my room for the entirety of the weekends.

This became more apparent as I moved out. I have more time to play, though not 100% since I have to allocate it to other things (chores, etc). But when I visit Valenzuela, I had this urge to leave. Its as if I felt that I have no business here; That my time going to and fro could’ve been for my chores, cooking, or even some games.

And even then, I have wasted a lot of mornings just vegetated in bed (need to get out of it or I wont even finish Fallout4 by the end of the year).

I’ll be visiting Valenzuela 2 more times before the year ends, and I have this sad notion that I’ll get the same feeling again going back there.

As it is now, I’m not even sure if I can climb out of this rut. One thing is for sure: this definition of what I call “home” needs to be changed.