You are interminable

With the time I've spent in stasis, I half-hopingly wished that the relevance of this journal would wane over the course of the past few months. Since my last entry, my persona has been no less fragmented. One truth I could step up to however is the belief that these fragments set themselves into a state of constant motion that lies both foreign and familiar to my long-jarred senses. I'm comfortable for once. I am at ease. That feeling when you peak at orgasm? It's like that, just a bit more existential and a little less (just a tad less) carnal. It's been that way since I got here. The alienation, once implied runs explicit. The feeling I used to only get from certain songs or memories has become so dense, it's palpable. The pulse and beat of temporal situation is almost tangible, really. Something I can embrace and walk hand-in-hand with.

How long have I hinted towards that emancipatory tension? Weeks? Months? Years? Far too long. Like a bootlegged M. Night Shyamalan flick, I'm nowhere near where I started. Likewise, I am nowhere near where I should be going. I'm somewhere else, somewhere "safe" and somewhere far. As with all starts, a less-than-noble birth has its pains. I still bear the heartache of leaving that cold, pink room to the care (more like reckless abandon) of my loving dog. A house with a basement and subdivisions lined with abandoned sister houses, all of that feels like a lifetime away. Time, all the time in the world to linger in a city's wake. I miss that. Badly. It's the anguish that comes with every long-term separation. I know it well. I do however believe that something good comes following bursts of emotional trauma.

If anything, the tension only leads me to believe that I've been just where I needed to be until today. Against my better logic, it does feel like I'm exactly where I want to be. Manila is the familiar face of a foreign flag, host to the rise and fall of empires and the sordid love nest of urban decay. Rotting from the inside out, I've come to call this home. I've always wanted to call you home. I've found a home in you. It's only been years since I've last been in bed with you.