my manila

alistair, a new friend from oz, thanked me for letting him see my manila. while having dinner, he mentioned that it was great to have an opportunity to see manila from my perspective. and it was a beauty to see.

it was the first time that somebody said that to me -- my manila. i never knew that i was at that quality already, that i placed ownership of this place. once resented, twice spat at, thrice trampled on, now called my manila. since i saw the war-ravaged photos of the city after the second world war, my heart was just simply torn to simply see the city turn out like a mismash of sorts. it was a beautiful city, pre-war. but i failed to realize that it is still a beautiful city. like a long drawn out relationship, i have finally found acceptance and love.

beauty can really be seen with someone who is willing to see it. manila has finally become my home -- with it's grit and noise.

i love this city, in all it's chaos.