I found a new place to live in the city!
Okay, let’s back up a bit. I said new, because I have to move out of one place and into another. The place is actually somewhere in the area where I used to rent when I was working in Makati at the time, from 2004 to 2008 if I recall correctly. New, because it was entirely abrupt and well, I practically am a starnger to this part of San Isidro.
It’s a steal really. I just happen to ask an acquaintance and just about time because the one I was renting in Quezon City has issues with the caretaker and the owner. Claim issues that nearly went full tabloid headlines, if things did went south.
But hey, I got me new digs.
Check it out!
Really a bargain for the location, righ smack in Makati, access to most major thoroughfares and with a subdued urban charm. This is an old house, probably built around mid-60’s, needs a bit more upkeep but just right for the price. It’s a studio flat, all 6×3 sqm, the wood floors have that sort of classic give, as most old houses tend to have, glass louvered windows. What’s good about the place is the environment. People here are creative and musical. Just after moving in, I spotted a room with a guitar hanging by the neck, like a criminal hanged for his atrocities. And there’s a child just below my room (I live on the posh upper floor) whose parents may have dreams of nurturing into a full blooming crooner. I could tell by the way the child screams and brays like a wounded mule all day long, and when I say all day long, there’s probably just a couple of hours lull in between braying and screaming, even at 11pm at night. Good training though, builds the lungs, the vocal chords are getting the right amount of stretch. And boy, could that child scream. Astonishingly good sustain. And I say musical people, because there’s acouple who does rehearse regularly a two part harmony that always ends up in a crescendo. And some flowery words that would leave Any poet with envy.
But I digress.
I occupy the farthest room on the second floor, with the landing beautifully lighted by a big pictured window that may have been an accident, given that the wood panelling was missing and people didn’t feel the need to repcale the thing. Like I said, creative. And with such companions as our residents cats and kittens, the air is always filled with such sweet smells of cat piss. Even the lower floor has that charming familiar odor of unflushed bowls and rotting leftovers. The walls of my room, are decorated with custom peeling paint of sepias and browns, in itnricate patterns of decay and ripped out posters. There’s a wood board that is located in the middle part of the wall that is curiously bent to support an apparent falling part of the ceiling and serves as an artistic play with nouveau art. So I did make some arranging and now I have a part that serves as my workstation. One Side is my combination library and pantry. I sleep on the very handy rubber mats assembled together when the need for sleep is imminent. And there’s a plus – the house right next to mine is a source of sumptuous food smells that is unrelenting. I surmised that the kitchen is just below my window, the aromas of frying fish and exotic entrees are always present and leaves me salivating. Distracting really, when I try nto write to evade the rumblings of my stomach and these tasty smells just won’t let me be.
I get my water at P5 per 30 liter pail. Drinking water is an affordable P18 per 10 liter container which I consume in about two days, depending on how dehydrating the next couple of days can be. Something staright out of Rubik the novel. For sustenance I do buy some provisions, and a can of ground coffee I savour with each cup, but then I have to make it last till the next paid freelance job comes around. Some may say I live a Bohemian Life. I don’t know what it means.
What’s best about being here is the way I’m really just a few blocks away from friends in Mayor Street. I love these guys. I left a decade ago, and when I did come by to shoot the bull, I almost got lynched. Out of pure love and camaraderie. I got slandered and insulted for all the years I was absent in the neighborhood. Just yesterday I was enjoying the company of long lost friends. I gave aways some drawings as tattoos and they fed me and kept me supllied with alcohol. No I didn’t get shitfaced, but drunk nonetheless.
So while I write more and draw even more, I’m trying to catch some freelance jobs that doesn’t leave me with a heartache and dry pockets. I still think having my own place is along the lines of good fortune. I’m an optimist by heart with a cynic mind. Employment may be just happenstance now, since no business would hire a 47-year-old schmuck like me.
And the most challenging thing I’ll probably face is to fight territories with a couple of rats that still think they own the place and occasionally assert their presence by playing around while I sleep. Thus I keep my 5 watt LED light on, and to assert my own claim to the place, I may have to piss on certain parts of the room.
You know, just to let them know who’s the boss around here.
And oh, did I mention, the room has a chandelier?