On The Road

I’d be sitting on a bus, fast asleep, my head resting on the glass window. I’d be startled awake and wonder where I am, the scene outside startlingly familiar, like I had teleported back to that island where that beautiful city between the mountain and the sea sits.

Reality soon kicks in. I’m on the road, on one of my many road tips, and wonder again how the landscapes in this country look the same wherever I go.

Buses travel through highways built beside coastal towns or sprawling green fields or cemeteries or mountain ranges.

Buses pass by the same sleepy towns, public markets, public schools, and signs pointing to the nearest gas station or Jollibee store.

Buses pass by makeshift stalls displaying fruits or gasoline stored in Coca-Cola bottles. Stray dogs and chickens roam the road. Men scorched by the sun’s heat, sit idly on waiting sheds. Mothers clean their front yards, burning dried leaves on the roadside.

These don’t linger too long in the memory.

What lingers is the long hours endured sitting on a bus with friends, your butts and joints screaming for mercy, animatedly sharing hilarious anecdotes.

What lingers is that special someone beside you fast asleep, the head resting on your shoulders, the hand casually resting in the inside of your thighs.

These are the memories that stick.

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6 Responses to On The Road

  1. andy says:

    What lingers is that special someone beside you fast asleep, the head resting on your shoulders, the hand casually resting in the inside of your thighs. —> HONGLONDI!!!!

  2. ewok1993 says:

    i try to burn these passing sceneries into my brain – that i may call upon them later on when i’m writing a blog post or sharing some stories.

    but i do agree that the feel of your beloved next to you is pretty fantastic to forget.

  3. gbert says:

    nice, just nice..

  4. Atticus says:

    that’s nice. a bus ride with someone you like. nice pictures, these ones you painted.

  5. raft3r says:

    masarap ngang may katanday

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