Lucky Number 20

I turned 20 today.

Last year, as you might recall, a few days before my birthday, I woke up panting and almost crying, sorry for that fact that I was turning 20. But I was wrong back then. I was just turning 19.

Today is different. I am not wrong, nor am I dreaming. I am really 20. No more "teen" in my age. I have officially entered the realm when I am no longer just another kid.

So here's to twenty years:

• To nightmares of flying monkeys, laughing and chasing me around my bed.
• To old Lego blocks and old trains, never ceasing and stopping to find the perfect fits and find right tracks.
• To old schools and old poems, old thoughts and old dreams.
• To first days of school and first moments of laughter.
• To coins possessed by spirits and papers imbued with scents.
• To berries and school-busses.
• To first communions and first commutes.
• To saws and hammers; to wood, lead and metal.
• To doubts of homosexuality and classes filled with anger.
• To the fortune in our palms.
• To old friends trapped inside books.
• To a boy who lived.
• To the bottom class, top-ones and summer classes.
• To unsuccessful cheating and successful theft.
• To storms that bond, breakfast at mcdonalds and parties filled with rum.
• To stolen dreams and awards, great systems and being a campus figure.
• To never ending morning prayers, liturgy comments and batch songs.
• To a boy who made me see Manila in a different light.
• To a boy who made me see myself in a different light.
• To failed relationships, successful cheating, and to Jojo and Hilary Duff.
• To UST.
• To the best classmates and to the second best.
• To the UST Coop.
• To block transfers, lonerism and trusted friends.
• To Plaza Calderon, to confessions to a boy and to another failed attempt.
• To storms that break, backstabbers and magazines.
• To teachers and professors, both good and unwanted.
• To a family that serves as my organization.
• To the Rizal Aud, Albertus Magnus and Colayco Park.
• To plays, productions, OPs, Christmas Parties and Farewells.
• To the Paskuhan.
• To all people I have met.
• To smokers and smoke, Marlboro lights and Cricket lighters and Yosi-Buddies.
• To Starbucks and Megamall.
• To basketball players, cheerleaders and bangers.
• To the lights of Malate and to the bars that never did any good.
• To the elusive thing called love.
• To more stolen dreams.
• To all my friends, who I love dearly.
• To my family, who I love most dearly.
• To Tinoco Park, jackets of yellow, loud drums, interviews, text-messages, older-brothers, dinner invitations, campaigns, elections, and to the only guy I have loved, I am loving and I will love like hell.
• To Shiela--all things given.
• To God.

Happy Birthday to me.