Craving for something.

I feel the sticky, hot air hit my face. And I've missed the feeling. Heads turn to look at me. Everywhere I go. "Do they want me to do a trick or something?" my smart ass remarks. Or maybe it's my round eyes? The sounds of languages I am not familiar with, horns being honked, and a lady calling out "sir ma'am" are heard as I pass. I jump into an already packed jeepney. Watch out, American-sized lady coming in. "Bayad, po." Seven pesos. Pass it. I see Jollibees and ChowKings. And I think explicit thoughts when I see that pink and orange sign of Dunkin Donuts and the yellow arches of McDonalds.

Now on our way to the beach. My family is all dressed in nice clothes, nice jewelery, sitting in a nice, cool van, a driver to take us wherever we want to go, as we pass a six-year-old boy walking down the side of the road barefoot and rags for clothes. I look down. I feel guilty. I want to jump out. I want to walk. I want to run. I want to live free. "No, Leia, it's dangerous out there." I am in captivity still.

The beach is perfection. 75 degree water. Mild waves. So clear you can see the bottom. Ah, at last- what I've been waiting for. I take the first opportunity to walk away from them. I dive into the ocean. My tears flow, lost in the sea forever. I look back. Everyone else is still getting settled in. "Good," I think to myself. I sit on the shore, the waves lapping on my legs. I dig my toes into the sand. I look out into the horizon.

This world is beautiful. I need to start living in it, not of it. There's so much to see and so little time. I start my journey now.