hmmm...

Staring at the cursor, unsure of what to write. It's just this feeling that I need to capture the moment. How could I, when I couldn't even put my fingers on it. To hell with having to think of the words that would impress the most number of people. Capturing the moment, whatever that is, is so much more important. Because moments like this are fleeting, short-lived, temporary (?) , and hence precious.

It's been a good day. For more than one reason.

If we must, here's one of them.

I'm here. Yes, I'm here. In that case, why leave at all? Good question. Because I've made a decision, and I'll see it through. If I never left, I would have always pondered the possibility, not giving me any rest. My leaving is worth all the feelings that come with it, because there's a reason why I leave. Coming home every now and then is just so I stay completely rooted to home. Which begs a question: do I really believe that by not coming home, I'll lose my roots, and to be more dramatic, a sense of who I am? Whoever I am cannot be lost by where I am. I'm just me. Imperfect, devious, honest (or at least I try to be), insecure, flippant, conformist and rebel. And so is everybody else, to some degree.

Anyway, is there really any reason why I go home? Yes, and it's very simple. I just want to. Not for any big ideal, but for the little things. Eating at Jollibee. Meeting up with friends till 2 am. Watching Tagalog shows. Eating at KFC. Eating at Chowking. Eating goto. Sleeping. Waking up to pancakes decorated with geometrical patterns in syrup. Waking up to food already cooked. Wearing underwear which are washed and well pressed a day after leaving in the hamper. Not having to worry about dying in the freezing cold (although the heat made me sick).

There are other reasons.

Little things do matter.

Like receiving a text message. One. Unexpected but longed for. Freely given.