Riding the MRT depresses me. Walking through Cubao is close to my definition of hell.
I get on the MRT and I try not to look at the women around me. They all look sad. Like if I asked them, they might tell me about how there was only one thing in their life that made them happy. Okay, I know what you're thinking - that one thing is better than nothing. Still, all those sad looking people...it is disconcerting. Maybe because I'm in the carriage with them.
They also look tired. I don't blame them. I look tired. Commuting in Manila has that effect on you.
I'm hungry. My last meal was something depressing from 7-11. Yes, I know, that's more that what other people have. Just let me get this distaste for commuting again out of my system.
I'm tired, hungry, and thinking about depressed looking women on the MRT. And am staying home on a Friday night, dammit.
I need to find an up-side to this filmmaking gig.
I miss my car.
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