This is a post-dated entry written 15 December 2015. At the time of its disclosure, I’m probably at the departure lounge of the Taoyuan International Airport, thinking about this ludicrous shot at happiness, which I probably won’t take. It’s insane even for my standards.
1,067 miles. It is the average distance between truth and possibility. If you go by plane, that would take about two hours and forty minutes. But it really is just one phone call away. That phone call would last for five seconds, long enough for ‘hello’ and ‘good bye’ with a few inappropriate words in between. But everyday, I will find an excuse not to dial–because guess what, I’m just too proud for it.
180 days. I tried counting backwards. This is the estimated number of 24-hour intervals that I kept myself from mentioning a name–no, not to my closest friends, not even when I’m piss drunk. I’m fucking indestructible like that.
6 hours. The amount of sleep I’d get after landing in Manila. I will wake up at 11:00 AM with a clear head and a stronger resolve. No go, Tito Boy! Lugi ako dyan!
And that is how I’m gonna win in 2016.