| |
While i rode a jeep from shitty hall going to capitol, i wondered about the crazy fender bender when it was 12ish noon. Then as we slowly creep into the decrepit and decaying Colon street, the heart of downtown cebu, lo and and behold where the throngs of militants on the march. nostalgic but sad, i felt i met an ex-wife from a bad court battle. It all came back to me now when exactly 5 years ago, this day was when i officially became a bad ass radical in the city. i gave my dad's 38 caliber pistol away (and without him knowing) to wherever i thought it was more useful.
The rally back then was 5x bigger and way more fun with college activists running the show. There was more enthusiasm and optimism that whatever we where fighting for was the "it". So I finally met them in capitol by the end of the march, and i went to greet some old faces and shared some cigs. There was nothing political in our exchanges, or even with the "lords" didn't even bother to talk anything about the current issues. We must have shared the mutual feeling that this has been so 5 years ago for us. I guess the truth will always be there, but real as it is, we all are humans and we do tire and feel burnt out. So ask ourselves: when can this be really over? I dunno for them, but personally the shelf life of this brand of radicalism has long been expired for many of us who now drink to reminisce these priceless nostalgia.
| | |
|
|