DOOR #23

DOOR #23

            Nostalgia is the best word to describe it.

            My tremendous feeling of homesickness to the life and “home” I once had before in Naga. When things were not as complicated as now.

            

Life was so surreal then.

            Paying the bills and rent, maintaining a few cash for everyday stomach supply and toning our voices down inside the door #23 were the only predicaments we had to take hold of. Studying was never a priority then, having fun was. It totally spelled out the laid out meaning of “college life” at its crucial peak. Rules were bound to be disputed and savings meant to be wasted. We were queens of the world. OUR world.

            Being the trouble-seeker, daredevil, trying-to-be-dependent headache I was before, the whole setting was kickass! Imagine I had to live with a gay, co-lunatic soul sistah for a whole year without any laws to abide and norms to conform to, inside our own little fortress. Nobody’s a dictator. We could eat anywhere we would like to pig out at. School was just a meeting place for friends.

            Door #23 was the haven every college student (coming from my species, that is) were looking for. Different kinds of personalities walked in and out of that place, each of them etching a special mark on our 4-cornered, neatly-walled sanctuary where utopia nearly existed. It was where dreams were sporadically molded, issues talked upon around a pitcher of gin-po, fights took place and wild parties were held at. It was where we planted our first college tears over mundane matters at hand, where heavy dramas were heard and where heartaches painfully experienced. Nobody would ever judge and take a snagging glance at you. Hypocrisy was a crime. It was the most ideal refuge for people searching for their individualities, seeking for answers on life and heart problems nobody would even try to hear outside our dome. And most of all, it was the most perfect place for molding friendship that nobody could ever forget until now.

We don’t want to be caught up in the whole apartment-experience for life has threw us a new setting that is much knotty and we’re meant to cope with whatever’s at present. But then, Door#23 is still a favorite word and topic we shed tears and laughter at.

And I am damn sure, it will forever stay that way.

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