There’s just that one moment that Makati doesn’t seem so congested, where you won’t run across random strangers or tired office workers. The underpasses offer that very short moment of silence and solitude… until someone from Ayala Avenue or Makati Avenue makes his or her way down the overpass and disturbs your peace.
Maybe an office worker without a long weekend. Maybe a tourist exploring the maze that is the Makati pedestrian system. Or maybe someone from maintenance, assigned to clean the floor. There is no escaping people here; except in those moments where there’s nobody around. Just you and your own shadow, you and your own breath, choosing a path to go to.
Then again, someone entered the underpass, and I hightailed it out of there. To wherever. To find solitude in a place where there is no silence.