I sometimes think that Ortigas, for all its failings and flaws, looks prettier when it’s empty; when the only traces of light come from the few cars that whiz by, when there are no employees shuffling from building to building, when there’s no traffic, when there’s no one there. I guess the only way I could appreciate Ortigas so much from a misanthropic point of view is when there’s no one there.
Having no people around gives me a man-alone feeling that I almost always enjoy. Perhaps Armstrong had the same feeling when he first walked on the moon. Or the blissful feeling Amundsen felt when he reached the South Pole. There’s no one there, or there could be someone there… we just don’t know. I guess that you can never fully appreciate the beauty of a place when there’s nothing there but place.
Methinks my happiness and bliss is futile, temporary, and fleeting; it’s a non-working holiday, so the thin mass of people may be congregating at the malls nearby. Even the parking lots, which are full of cars every day, turn into nothing more than fields of grass and gravel.
Gone – at least for the Holidays – are the box-type Lancers and the BMWs parked alongside each other, where the common denominators are not models, but parking fees.
Oh well, this can’t last long.