(written: Jun 15, 2009)

I miss UP. I miss the Sunken Garden, the smell of the grass, the looks on people’s faces. There are too many of them and you’ll hardly recognize one yet you feel like one big family, even the fish ball vendors and the jeepney drivers.

I miss walking aimlessly in UP quadrangle, going to the church and reading the newspaper in Sunken Garden or in the nearby shed.

I miss going to rallies, attending forums and watching films for a class. I miss the class discussions, the cramming of articles and holding a blue book.

I miss the independence of my mind, the solitude in my heart and the courage in my blood. I miss my home. I miss the home of my mind, heart and blood.

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