Mission Life Entry #1: Saturday, 25th January. Tabacco, Albay
8:30am. Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing. Right now I’m stuck in Tabacco, Albay waiting for the ferry that will take me to Catanduanes. I didn’t make it to the 7am one, so I have no choice but to wait for the next trip. I didn’t make it to the 7am one because I didn’t factor in EDSA traffic and the 12hr bus ride stretched to a torturous 15hrs.
I write because while my voice is loud enough I know that the volume does not give me the strength to tell the truth. My pen is more powerful than my tongue and sharper than my teeth, so it can bite and give necessary pain when in reality I cant even hurt a fly
I write because my head often spins with a cocktail of words that dont make sense unless I translate it onto paper. In dreams over clouds I’m often too drunk in the deluge of emotions that cascade in my heart in poetic phrases that pile up and it suffocates me…
I write because in this battle I am a soldier and I’d die if I wont fight with the ammo I know.
I write because otherwise Ill choke in my own words for the overload is heavy and the baggage is infected.
The other day I woke up to a very bad dream. In the dream I was a bad dentist. So bad that friends and family hated me. I remember waking up sad… and then I started crying. I was in a mission, sleeping with a doctor on the other bed, and I started to sob. “It’s just a dream, Crix”, I said. “Just a dream.”