Intense highland fever & serious flashbacks

It was so good to be home.
I haven't been out of Manila (with the intention of getting much needed R&R) in over 2 years. The last time i was home wasn't exactly a joyful occasion. This was it. The "vacation" i was waiting for- it's just a bit strange that my vacation is set at a place where i grew up.

Baguio is different now. The familiar places look beaten down and neglected. The new places and random buildings that have popped up everywhere look so out of place. There's traffic! And the scent of pine is almost non-existent.
It's shocking what time can do to such a beautiful place.

But there are places that have been left untouched. Streets that look exactly the same as if i was on it just yesterday on my way to school. Random stops on the side of the road where i used to take breaks when i would ride my bike. My old school where i spent a chunk of my childhood and experienced some of the most memorable times of my life. My house.

I love going home. It reminds me about who i really am. It awakens long forgotten stories that should be remembered. It just brings me back to a really good time in my life... and i'm happy it will always be like that.

The past few months have been very heavy. The holidays whizzed past me and i didn't even notice it come and go. I've been spreading myself quite thin and i've been running myself to the ground. My dad thought i should go home so that i could "find myself".
I planned to go home, appreciate the peace and quiet, read a few books, drink lots of coffee, eat at all my favorite places (all 2 of them. haha) think, and write. Write a lot, actually.
It didn't go quite as i planned. But in a good way, make no mistake about that.

i have so many things running through my head right now.
I'm still in Baguio mode (thus, the highland fever) and i can't manage to get back into the swing of Manila. I'm trying to sort things out and go about my life like i have to all at the same time. Does that even make any sense?

I ran into a friend that i haven't spoken to in about 11 years. Serious flashback, that was.
but i can't think. I can't write. A part of me wants to put all of this down on paper... and a huge part of me just wants to keep it all to myself.
Maybe i'll just have to continue this some other time.