Go LB!

For the longest time I’ve wondered why being at home, again, is such a pain. Now I know why: there is no Isis bar or LB Square where I could grab a quick dinner or bottles of beer when I want to, most of my friends do not live right at the next door or the neighboring compound or a dorm five minutes away (which means no spontaneous drinking or videoke sessions) and most of all there’s absolutely no going out after I’ve gone home because that person who used to go with me is a thousand miles away.

And though some of us might be working and earning our own money (okay sige, kayo lang to, haha), there is no absolute independence while we’re back living with our dear parents. In all bluntness, you can’t talk to your mom or your brother in the same way you talk to your housemates/dorm mates (no obscenities, so little opportunities to swear, how boring is that?).

You can’t post pictures of Cosmo bachelors on your wall, you can’t let the food on the fridge rot, you can’t spill alcohol on the sofa or your own pillow, you can’t let your sink turn into a pool and let the snails swim by, you just can’t live life in a complete mess—these things I can only do in LB. Haha.

In a nutshell, I can’t seem to live the same evil, amoral, outrageous life I (or we) had back then, there. Everything pariwara inside of me just can’t break loose and it’s taking up so much of my energy to contain it. Papa god, i wanna go back to LB. Hahaha.