A Poem for Sushi

I picked up the several books on my table and put them in a box. In a month or so I would have moved out of Katipunan to live in Timog or Tomas Morato. Nothing much has changed in this starving writer’s life and I’m very much yearning for a looong vacation. By a looong vacation I mean somewhere remote, where I can leave my gregarious life and make a fetish out of my solitude.

I wanted to visit to Japan and backpack all over the place. I could consider living there as a hobo, hitching rides, sleeping where my tired feet would take me during the day, eat anything except animals and make friends for a brief moment starting with a smile.

For food I will not beg, I would however write a poem or short story for a hot veggie ramen. Perhaps I would even realize that it would beat whatever I have here in this unhappy country. That I would achieve bliss that way, the same as Sysiphus is a happy man despite his curse.

I may even consider entering a Buddhist temple and never return.

But I’ll come back to this forsaken, crime-ridden country of the poor and oppressed. Upon stepping back to my motherland all the bliss I accumulated will be replaced and tarnished by anguish with the ugly sight of my country.

I shall compare the polarities of these two places and mourn for two seconds.

Still, I would return to be very much in love with my country carrying greater optimism of uplifting its hopeless situation.