I've been asked to vacate my room, my heavenly abode somewhere in Quezon City. It's the place where I grew up and where I spent years becoming the mold that I am now.
It's that one place which knows all my dreams and nightmares -- every single one. It's my one true home, the only home I've known for a long time. It is my kingdom, my utopia, my universe and my wonderland.
On one wall is a huge cabinet filled with books, photos and other mementos. On one corner is my doll house for all the dolls I've collected from my most memorable journeys around the globe. The origins of the dolls are as varied as their shapes and costumes -- from as far as Slovakia to neighboring Thailand.
There are paintings and posters, too and wooden masks around the room.
But everything will soon be gone. Almost all my stuff are now in bags and boxes. The room that I know will forever be removed from my map of the universe.
How do I move on? I'm not really sure. In the meantime, my displaced soul will try to stay sane amid the chaos of packing stuff and choosing between what can be buried and what can be saved.