Just like that. Back in Sydney. One minute I'm packing my bags (last minute again, as always), the next I'm UN-packing them in my flat. There's a roach problem, so I've been killing the fuckers with orange-scented Mortein. There's something gleefully macabre about seeing insects writhe and die while your nostrils are being flooded with the scent of Tang.
I am so damn jet-lagged even if I have no reason to be (Sydney is a mere 3 hours ahead). But when you've been sleeping at 5am Manila time for the last couple of days, then going to bed 8am when you have to be at work at 9am is going to be a problem.
It's so strange to suddenly be the darkest skinned person walking in the streets again. Even more so now because I have the closest thing to what I can call a tan. I should try my best to keep it.
It's also strange riding a bus once more because for awhile there I was really beginning to enjoy driving my car again. Rest in peace baby black Civic. May you go to an owner who'll love you, cherish you, and give you a good Tire Black once a week. Smell nice for him and keep the CD player working, because it's the sound of music that hides those squeaks and creaks which betray your age. Give him kick ass dates that last till sunrise and don't overheat or blow a tire, especially when the spare's flat too, because girls don't like being stranded in the middle of nowhere. Maybe three years from now when I'm finally home I'll be driving down South Super in my BMW X5 (I'll afford it by then) and I'll see FDM 234 a couple of lanes ahead and I'll gladly speed and cut my way just to see who's driving you. Hopefully he'll have replaced your eroding rubber steering wheel with a nice wooden Momo and I hope to God there are no fur dice hanging from your rearview mirror. Don't be jealous when you see me in my new pimped out ride because even if I've moved on, the memories I've had with you will stay (and how). I'll honk my horn and wave at the driver and he'll probably think I'm some gay wanker trying to pick him up but then I'll just smile and speed off, him totally not knowing the history you and I once had. Peace bro. Been nice driving you. I really wish I had a name for you now...
I realize I just wrote a farewell letter. For my car. I need to sleep.
I am so damn jet-lagged even if I have no reason to be (Sydney is a mere 3 hours ahead). But when you've been sleeping at 5am Manila time for the last couple of days, then going to bed 8am when you have to be at work at 9am is going to be a problem.
It's so strange to suddenly be the darkest skinned person walking in the streets again. Even more so now because I have the closest thing to what I can call a tan. I should try my best to keep it.
It's also strange riding a bus once more because for awhile there I was really beginning to enjoy driving my car again. Rest in peace baby black Civic. May you go to an owner who'll love you, cherish you, and give you a good Tire Black once a week. Smell nice for him and keep the CD player working, because it's the sound of music that hides those squeaks and creaks which betray your age. Give him kick ass dates that last till sunrise and don't overheat or blow a tire, especially when the spare's flat too, because girls don't like being stranded in the middle of nowhere. Maybe three years from now when I'm finally home I'll be driving down South Super in my BMW X5 (I'll afford it by then) and I'll see FDM 234 a couple of lanes ahead and I'll gladly speed and cut my way just to see who's driving you. Hopefully he'll have replaced your eroding rubber steering wheel with a nice wooden Momo and I hope to God there are no fur dice hanging from your rearview mirror. Don't be jealous when you see me in my new pimped out ride because even if I've moved on, the memories I've had with you will stay (and how). I'll honk my horn and wave at the driver and he'll probably think I'm some gay wanker trying to pick him up but then I'll just smile and speed off, him totally not knowing the history you and I once had. Peace bro. Been nice driving you. I really wish I had a name for you now...
I realize I just wrote a farewell letter. For my car. I need to sleep.
posted by Carlo Ledesma at 2:06 AM
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