We're halfway.

Yesterday was my last day as an instructor. Havoc duly wreaked.

The end of an (kind of) era has made me introspective.

A lot of my thoughts have been settling on last summer. I'm remembering random details about spending time with my family in The Netherlands and traveling alone. The other day, I suddenly thought about the grey sweatshirt I left on a train to Florence. A gust of nostalgia blew through my rib cage, and consequently rattled my heart. Far-away places tug at me. I miss the mobility.

 

This is me on another train, before I lost my sweatshirt.

Anyway, there will be some of that next week. My return to the Big City is properly underway. Apart from the minor debates on whether or not I should bring the rice cooker or how many mugs I should take, the preparations have been uneventful. Ma has been going around the house, unearthing things that could be useful in the apartment.

For a while, the idea of living in Manila carried stigma. I couldn't think about the place without getting hyper acidic. I suppose, these days, the strong adverse reaction has dialed down. I now respond to Manila in pretty much the same way any Northerner would. I have spent enough time in the mountains putting my soul back together. I love living with my family, but I feel like it's time for me to jump back into the trenches.

Later.