Sepanx

Today I moved into a new apartment. I might have said that I have moved into a new home, except that home is where peace is and I still find no peace as I write this. The one I sleep in are beds that are slightly thicker than comforters. They are pressed together, one over the other. The one I used to sleep in, thicker and more comfortable, is still in my previous apartment, and I have no intentions of taking the hassle of bringing that to my new apartment. 

I thought I'd stay in Elbi throughout this academic year. For six months, I had managed to wake up at 4am and hump my way to Biñan before 7am.It was already part of my system. The part that I would rush my way out of my bed had been mechanical. Some days, I made them without the jolt of the alarm clock. That is how unthinking it was. Every thing was automatic. I was able to shut off the recurring question, day by day, is it a good day to slack off? I have learned to ask a more thoughtful questions, like isn't it interesting that I am feeling uncomfortable? What if I could meet my muse in the streets? Then it would change me.

Everything seemed part of everything else when I try to sleep. The quietness of the streets, and unsleepiness and the separation anxiety. For six years, I have been away from home and have learned to find a new one. And now, I am away from my second home. It is strange. It feels unreal. It feels like I wasn't here.

A montage is running in my head. Scene after scene, they display a rough sketch of my past. At the same time, they show a sneak to some possibilities. Deep inside, I am buried in my old room, together with the people I treat like my own brothers. I can still imagine the details of our old room, its darkness, the windows that are the source of strange noises whenever I got drunk. I still know that
scene when the door would creak in and without a minute, I would hear a diapragmathic breath. It was unfair, I thought. I'd been in my bed for hours and still no chance of dozing off. I would check the beds if they were really asleep. They were, almost without a miss every single time.

This night will be long. It will be not because I will impatiently wait for the dawn and just live through tomorrow but beacause I will need to figure the way out of this nostalgia. From this day on, apart from my family and home, I will be separated from my old self which is used to be at home.