Melancholy Heights

I told myself before that in order to perfectly remember what I wanted to achieve as an objective, I will return to the places that once became a monument to my dreams.

One of them is a resort known as Cloud Nine. Located on top of a hill called Kelly Heights in Antipolo, not too many people, especially from the lowlands of Western Metropolis know of this place. Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking Manila, it is one of the best places to have a scenic view of the city on a tranquil weekday afternoon or in a chilly past-midnight weekend.

Someday, I will reveal in the blog why this place is very special to me. But for now, what is important is that I have come back to this place after some five years of absence.

Lately, I am facing some difficulties when it comes to my school priorities. I feel that my drive, which had sustained me in the past two semesters without failing, is beginning to lose steam.

I even feel that words have began to slip away from my hold again.

This Friday will be my turn to discuss in front of the class a book which the professor had assigned for us to read. My assignment turned out to be a difficult Japanese novel about an ugly Buddhist acolyte obsessed with the true essence of beauty.

In hopes that I could read at least two chapters of the novel without any distraction from anyone, I decided to conduct my quiet readings in a place which is supposed to remind me of some forgotten dreams. The promenade along the bay would be an ideal place, but with so many joggers and bystanders constantly looking at you, the distraction would be imminent. Fort Santiago would be a good place too. But with lovers showing some public display of affection around you, better be some place else rather than be a loser gawking in front of them.

So I chose the most distant yet the most breathtaking place I could think of.

I started my journey at past 4 pm. The LRT Purple Line which I rode up to Santolan Station will lead me to the second and last part of my travel. Just below the station are the countless Sumulong Highway bound jeepneys that will take me up in the hills of Antipolo. After an hour's travel racing through Marcos Highway and turning right into the zigzagging and increasingly steep Sumulong Highway, the subdivisions scattered along the road were replaced by endless pine trees growing on the danger side of the road. Beyond these trees lie some of the deep gorges I have seen in these parts of the city.

Just several yards after passing Padi's Point, on the left side of the road, a pilgrim like me would find a small wooden marker that reveals the secret location of Cloud 9. Turn left on the very steep road after the marker and it will lead you to the top of the hill where one can get closer to heaven than he can ever be here in the hellish-bound plains of the city.

As I sip my pineapple juice while reading a turning-point chapter of the book I would be reporting for class, a breathtaking view of the sunset overlooking a dusty, smoggy city was revealed to me. Even if everything was shrouded in thick, billowing clouds that afternoon, the mere pleasant thought that I am enjoying one of the best things life can still offer for free,

Make the entire trip all worth it.

---

On these great plains,
there are visions of the clouds
turning red at partings,
where the earth sighs
away from the warring skies.

- The Last War Party, Ruel De Vera
The Most Careful Of Stars