Boracay

The air smells of the sea and its characteristic brinishness and I am reminded yet again of how much I miss the beach. My body craves for it and my mind yearns for it as if I hadn't just got back from the beach a week ago. 

Five days of bliss--of fun, of strolling along the beach, of lying in the sand all day doing nothing thinking nothing, and of partying in the night, of living in the moment. As Sean Kingston goes, sleep all day, party all night! Okay, maybe not the sleep all day part. 

It was a welcome respite from those 4 years of sleepless nights and all-nighters, impromptu presentations, nerve-wracking orals, and of terror profs slave-driving us. The pristine white shores of Boracay was paradise where you can do everything and do nothing. Being able to spend five days there was the sweetest dream. But inasmuch as it was a fantasy it was also semi-anchored in reality. 

For most, Boracay signifies that last summer of youthful carefreeness. But I guess Boracay is the slap in your face that we have made it and that we are seniors no more. And it's back to the bottom of the ladder for most of us. 

*images from joan uy's album and mine :)