June Blues

El mes de Junio han venido.

The heralding gloom ushers in the monsoon season, of melancholia and sheer boredom with life. The heat of summer slowly fades into the infinite timeline of elemental history and human memory, changing from humid heat, to really wet humidity, to cold icy bliss. Jackets will once again don the Thomasian populace, who by the way, wears them almost all year long. Traffic will soon loom over the metropolis, jeepneys will become amphibians, and the roads and streets will become once more a very poor imitation of the Venetian scenery. Books smelling like wet dogs. And as the eye of the storm churns, so will my unstable emotions, and convert me once again into the sentimental fool that I really am.

I’m in my fourth year in Law school, and my eighth in UST. If all things fall iinto their proper places according to plan, next year, I’d be a barista, the last step toward the ultimate professional goal.

Then I’d hide in the hinterlands, never to return to urban civilization for at least a year or so.

Or so I wish.