i moved out of quezon city and into makati, how could there not be an entry?
Most of the time, I am prone to generalize when it was I had started ‘living’ – as if my life did not really start when I was born 22 years ago.
Before, I used to say my life began in high school, when my mother died. When I still thought freedom was about getting to decide your own haircut or choosing your own clothing or put simply, being free from my mother’s instructions and expectations. I think, honestly, that anyone who had been 15 once would agree. High school was a time when going to malls in your uniform was a risk and getting your parents to say yes to a summer outing at the end of the year with your class was an achievement in itself.
Since I graduated from college though, I became more prone to thinking my life began when I entered college in UP. I was sixteen then, when I moved out of our Cavite home and thrust myself into the willing bosom of the premiere State University alone. It was, in many ways, the start of several things – vice, awakenings and heartbreaks, in not at all mutually exclusive piles.
Who knows though, maybe five years from now, I would start thinking differently again.
But for the time being, this is what is true – Quezon City would always be, for me, that place where I first lived on my own.