I still remember the many afternoons I spent at the then ViSCA beach. In my favourite duffle bag I carry a novel, my pad and pen my miniturized radio (a gift from my girlfriend..ahhh the heartaches are starting to resurface again), a few sticks of Winston and sometimes a bottle half full of Tanduay.The novel will almost likely be a Robert Ludlum and everyone else of that genre. The pad may or may not have a few lines of poems (Yes...I admit now...I was a hopeless romantic...and really, really hopeless) that never made through to any campus paper except that my roommates at Mahogany used to wait to read it in the early hours of the morning when I was still sleeping. I knew why they like to raid my table at that hour, it was always those "little left overs" which seems to be so sweet when the day has just begun. My writings were just something they read like a morning newspaper though all it did was add to the melancholic feelings the twilight brings.
A phrase - "bukas saan ako pupunta" , is one thing that always remind me of someone I probably hurt so much I don't know if I am worth forgiving for. Because right beside the gently slapping waves of Camotes Sea, I have experienced both joys and heartaches of loving and being loved.
I have spent many mornings swimming as far out as I dared to beyond the bamboo poles before I come back for coffee at the Pavillion or at the Zea Maize kitchen which ever is easier to get which depends whether freshmen are in the kitchen or a friend of mine is manning the counter at the Pavillion. These are the perks for an "overstayer".
One of these days I hope I will find myself back at Kiosk #1, or is it still there?
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