NPA.

My family owns 3 residences, I didn’t care much, it’s something I’m less glad and proud of, something I’d like to consider as a futile fact about my life. The first one is situated in Paranaque, this house is the 4th one that we’ve owned since we moved here from Quezon city, it was built around 5 years ago, my parents designed and worked nearly hands-on to the structures and interiors of the house, I thought we were going to reside there for good, but a strike of opinion came from my father, who suggested purchasing a condominium somewhere in Manila for convenience purposes. Since my father has his clinic in MDH, I go to school at Malate, and my brothers too (at that time), so it was nevertheless suitable for all of us instead of wasting too much gasoline, time and effort. We’re currently living at this condominium for almost 4 years now, this place would’ve been much fitting for a single or two individuals. There’s never enough space for the whole family—one room, one bathroom, a rather spacious living room for the kitchen, dining and my own “little” place.


Considering that I have 3 obnoxious naughty little brothers, parents that doesn’t know how to clean up their own mess, 2 dogs that require often cleaning and maids that are not even reliable in thoroughly cleaning the house. I hate it when I come home; it’s like entering in a giant garbage can.

The third one is fairly recent, about a few months ago perhaps. I have no clear idea why they decided to own one. It is somewhere coastal road, a condominium with 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, everything seems to be perfect, and it fits all of us.


Right now, we’re in Paranaque to waste precious minutes of doing nothing.. I decided to look around my “so-called” bedroom and our own little “payatas”—the attic. We hardly lived here; we never stayed here for too long because while it was still under construction, we’ve already moved to Manila, and not until it’s done that we came back just to spend the night or so.

Wandering around some junks, I discovered a lot from my childhood—the ugliest penmanship and the way I write letters in a complete “text language” (yak). My old clothes and stuffs I never thought I once had. I missed it in a way, but I hate the fact that it’s now at this house full of garbage. Some people already have seen these stuffs I own, the letters that weren’t supposed to be read by anyone, I have no idea what else is there to be seen. Anyway, it doesn’t matter to me anymore, if I could burn everything that I am before, I will without any hesitations. Not that the past didn’t matter, it helped of course, to be the worst that I can be, and the better one that I am right now, I suppose.

As I’ve observed the attic, emotions decided to stir on its own for me; a mixture of astonishment, melancholy, bitterness, and anger. This house is exactly a large room for all the family’s junk. The living room has 2 dining tables, a mini bar counter, 3 set of sofa’s (emphasis on the “set”), an organ, countless computer tables that extend until the garage, countless big traveling bags (maleta?), furnitures, and wait! There’s more! Haha. Kidding. Would we ever let go of all of these? I swear to God that these things could’ve been used by a lot more people. I refuse to be held responsible for all this in case my parents wouldn’t mind taking care of it, I really don’t want to. Grr.

The third one is the opposite of the first, almost empty, nothing more than a TV set, dining table, beds and electric fans. I’d like to see our houses as representations of life. The past, present and future. The past needs to be settled, needs to be forgotten, make the useful things a little part of the present. The present needs constant renovation and has to be given emphasis; it’s always the present that matters most. The future, it can wait, yet it should always be looked upon and give constant significance.

Three houses, I have no favorites, but I prefer the present, of course. Fast facts; the first house is a place for dust allergens; the second is for oxygen insufficiency and space scarcity, and the third is a deserted, remote, giant oven, seriously.

The present, past and future; just enough to be considered a house. It’s like every single one of them is bound to have problems and deficiencies. But I hope someday, I would find my own present and future home, and I promised myself this would never happen to me.

A simple home with all the things necessary is enough to be considered the past, present, as well as the future.