Walked home from the center. The drizzle stopped, and I like walking. I suddenly thought to myself that I could stop walking at any time and still consider myself being home already. Unlike the time when I was employed and dreaded not being able to come home early enough due to the weather, the traffic, the crowds, and potential train breakdowns. I would console myself then by saying to myself, "As soon as the train hits Cubao, I am practically home" and, eventually, "As soon as I get into the train on United Nations Avenue I am practically home." Now I don't have to think like that anymore.

I remember that there was so much ill will on the trains. Even nuns and priests had to metaphorically claw their way through just to get themselves seats. It was the kind of ill will that made you hate the world while you were on the trains BUT, as soon as you got to work or got home you suddenly and conveniently forgot everything because repression is a powerful defense mechanism. Even if you tried hard you couldn't remember the faces of your co-passengers.