Take Me Home.

Attempting to go back to Guam has been one of those crazy things I've definitely been putting off for a while. The legal age of drinking is 18, so naturally we all had fake IDs by 14 and have been in blackouts since. For all its beauty, the island is terribly small, and everyone knows everyone, or even worse, they are somehow related to you. I never know what to make of it. I was always the trouble maker, landing myself in crazy situations that I suppose could've been avoided, but my youthful "exuberance" proved otherwise. Going home means alot of mixed emotions for me. It means I have to deal with the reality of the past I do not like to look back on, maybe it's just human condition that we don't like facing what we left. I was the typhoon that no one expected. But how beautiful would it be. In retrospect I feel like I did grow up in paradise. I was spoiled rotten, my back yard was the beach, and I had every luxury. But back then, all I wanted was to leave the damn place, and now ten years later, I think I am primed for a return. I do want to see my grandmother and visit my grandfathers mausoleum and my uncles, and Tommy's. Who would've thought that they would all be buried within proximity of each other...
I remember vividly how beautiful the sunsets and sunrises were. How orange purple and pink all fought and came together to form this beautiful visual. I want to swim in the turqouise green waters I so fondly. Who knows maybe I might get to swim there again.