Lights still lit two years after

I’ve always wanted to live in a large city. You see, in Cavite, there are no more people on the streets when the clock srikes nine. The effect is quite eerie, especially after I’ve just come from Manila. When I left the capital at eight, night—and for a lot of people, day—was just starting. When I cross the boundary to Cavite the streets are dark (in places where corrupt public officials conveniently forgot to put street lights) and everyone has gone to sleep, or is watching the primetime crap on television. I dislike the emptiness and the isolation. Most of all, I hate the absence of civilization.

So, I’ve always wanted to live in a large city. Now, I am.

“Something about city lights attracts me like a moth to a gasoline lamp.” I wrote that here two years ago. I’m glad that I still feel the same because now I live in the center of a city full of lights, lights emebedded in tall buildings and moving cars. I am in what I believe to be my natural habitat and as shallow as it sounds, it makes me happy. Believe me, it doesn’t take a lot.