July 7, 2019
I get food from Ortigas station. The train slows down there on Thursdays and Fridays so I get the chance to reach for food from generous pasengers. I have no inkling of real time. I don't trust my cell phone time anymore. I confirm the date during "food days"—as I have come to call them. I get to talk to people, my brother and father sometimes. My cell phone is able to call and connect to the Internet, but by now I've ran out of things to say. I'm not happy and not sad. I'm just waiting and waiting.