Goodbye, Manila. Hello, Reality!

I have always thought of making an article about Manila--its diverse culture, the people from different walks of life, the pollution, everything about Manila--since I first step into the grounds of my alma matter, but my laziness got the best of me. I slacked off the writing and decided to enjoy every bit of Manila-ness I could grasp.

I never really expected to love Manila. I mean, who would, right? Manila is polluted. The air you'd breathe consists of carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide, and other respiratory-impaling gas. It is filthy. You'd see used condom along Taft Avenue, used napkin somewhere in Pedro Gil, diaper with poop near Padre Faura, and a lot of cigarette stubs anywhere. The place is a scary place--it is congested with hawkers, snatchers, hold-uppers, and other lawless elements. The place is, to put it in a bourgeoisie's word, ew. It is the exact opposite of where I grew up, but Manila grew on me.

For almost six years, Manila played a big part in my life. It is where I established my identity, built my dreams, and found nine awesome friends. This is the place where I learned that being street smart is better than being intelligent. It is where I found (and eventually lost) the first guy I kissed in the rain. It is where I first broke my heart. It is where I spent most of drunken moments, down in the gutter, looking at the stars. It is where I first broke down and cried my heart out. Manila, despite its filthiness, taught me everything I need to know about reality. Manila has and will always have my fondest and cruelest memories. But I can't live there anymore.

I had to leave Manila now. Not that I find no reason to live in this place, but I just have to grow. I just have to move on with my life. One day, I know I will come back to where I found my dreams. When that day comes, I know I'd be once again ready to embrace the ugliness of Manila.

But for now, it's goodbye Manila! Hello, Reality!