Flying Away

A few weeks ago, my collegiate milestone finally ended. Leaving the street that we call Antonio. Sandwiched between Dapitan, the street behind the premises of our school, and Laong Laan, the street opposite to it. Antonio is where most of the students near Dapitan hang out, smoke, drink, write literature, philosophize and many more. But in that street, there is a small store where we, my friends and I hang out in. The store is owned by a nice old lady whom we call Mommy Jean and which the store is named after. But basically, Antonio is not just a street; it’s a home for others.

Though it may sound as if it’s a place for bums, it is actually the place where all walks of life can be seen. It is where a few friends of mine; philosophize theories from Barthes to Machiavelli; a place where astronomy can be learned and taught, a place where poetry and other literary works can be critiqued on by peers or by some of our professors. We did many things in that place, but the one thing that I would never forget is that it will always be a place where we could seek refuge from our school and our houses. Our houses that we try to run away from like a tied dog on a chain. A friend once told me that there will always be issues in a family, the only thing that varies are the issues. But I guess our issues are what keeps us together.

Now, Antonio for me is just another place where I have stayed, made memories and friends. The place and street which has taught me the other meaning of home; that it may not be a place where you sleep in everyday but it is the place where I won’t be judged and where I can run to in times of need in terms of emotional and academic advice. The home where I learned literature and philosophy beyond the confines of the university; the place where I sought refuge when I was having troubles with some school requirements and the place where I realized that there is no story in a perfect love story. Although I can still visit the place but it will already be different going back. New faces, new students will be hanging out there. And, I know, that years will come by and that street will still hold all the memories that I have invested. The feeling of leaving home is bittersweet because I finally graduated but at the same time leaving a home that has made me survive all the past years. So now, I dedicate this work to it and all the memories and that it may be just a street but it is also a home for me and others.