2/2016 - Anawangin, Zambales
We swam and playfully wrestled each other amidst the murmurs of the shallow sea, feeling the subtle waves getting higher and stronger after every crash and going back to shore to sip on our beers from time to time. We were gliding; gliding above the sea like an eagle, gliding through dreams, gliding through sky and space and time and gliding through every other dimension known to man. When we got tired of swimming, we decided to attempt the performance of a specific technique she would run towards me from a distance and jump on me, letting go of her entire weight as she thrusts herself into the sky. On the other end, I would grab her by her armpits with both of my hands as she jumps on me and hoist her up like a small little baby with only my arms and core strength to rely on. I was stoned beyond my imagination, but there was so much space and it was too impossible not to make a fool out of it. We failed miserably and made fun of ourselves. We observed people on the other side eyeing us and probably making fun of us as well, but Marty’s babyish laughs were all I could hear, and the sound of it blended well with the monotone of the waves, which were getting higher by the minute. We were happy and we didn’t care about the world anymore. We were in the middle of nowhere, in the centre of everywhere.