(no subject)
Louise Isabella Albano July 13, 2005
R 17
Teenage Wasteland Wonderland
The origin of its name no one can trace. But after seven, a strip of empty land with just the exact height of grass safe enough to venture in but soft enough to lie down on is what becomes of Spirit Land. Located where the heart would be if Ayala Alabang was a person, only the bonafide villager knows where and what exactly is this Spirit Land. With the right age- a little past just turned teenager and right before the twenty mark, the spirit that comes with it, and the most essential of equipment, this field of yellow green blades under the blistering sun that you would normally drive by and give no thought of turns into the adolescent land of milk and honey.
Yes this is where my friends and I [and many others just like us] continue to spend our wonder years. With the perfect angle at which moonshine strikes, the grass does smell and look greener on this other side. That very first step off the side walk and into the grass sets the whole new experience into gear. Just looking at the slopping land and you know it isn’t what you make of the place. You are instantly under its spell. Going there serves useless if you are unwilling to surrender control of yourself to the spirit of the land.
Every trip is a defined, indefinite ritual. After all of us are in one car and our assigned packages in trunk we prepare ourselves for the unexpected with the one guarantee: this trip isn’t going to be like the last. With the swift motion of spreading open the blanket on the unusually damp grass, we fall spiral into that secret lives we see come shore only when we are there. With only the whispers of the cool breeze tickling the drums of your ears, the resonance of your anthems making you feel more alive than ever, the buzzing in your head keeping you alert, and the shouts of your souls reaching for everything your heart has openly and even more, secretly desired, you have a world at your feet. A combination of alcohol, nicotine, company, and perfect unity of person fills your insides with a different kind of warmness.
Lying almost perpendicular to the sky, you have the perfect view of the world. The dark blue sky with the brilliant luster of twinkling stars, Mount Makiling in all its majesty, the silent sighs of the sleeping rooftops and the seemingly endless run of green. In trying to escape our lives and whatever care it has brought us, we stumble into its perfect reflection. Another piece of it we find, pick up, put into our pockets to take home and maybe even live by.
The secret to this place isn’t found in the chocolate brown earth or the watchful moon but in the spirits of the other teenagers that have gone before us, lived just like us, and discovered secrets we are slowly discovering. What parts of them they’ve left behind is the life force we feel surge into our souls when we are there. And in whatever craziness or recklessness we get into, the spirits always have a way of fixing us and replacing broken pieces.
How much longer we have there is shorter than a lifetime but we will continue to live on in what we leave behind, just as the elders did, and pass on to the forth comers. We leave with them a reality in a world that isn’t so real.
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im on some form of chemical high! =) ♥ =) ♥ =) ♥ i cant explaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiinnn!!!!!!!!