averageness, commonness, commonplaceness, normality

Of Independence

As most of you probably don’t know, I just moved back to Cainta from Cubao due to crappy circumstance. I shall provide the details ’cause I’m tired of talking about it.

Rojo, my roommate who asked me to move in to the extra room in his apartment, has been living in the apartment for 3 years. He and his friends rented that apartment under his friend’s name. His friend moves out 3 years ago leaving Rojo handling everything in the apartment (e.g. bills, maintenance). In the 3 years that Rojo has been living there, the sh*tty landlord and him would get in to different kinds of squabbles. Water, electricity, and noise are 3 of the most disputed topics they have. Rojo never misses a payment for the apartment though.

A few weeks ago, our toilet developed a really bad plumbing problem (read: we had to defecate somewhere else). So, naturally, Rojo would ask assistance from the sh*tty landlord, like any normal tenant would do. However, the sh*tty landlord denies assistance and tells Rojo to f*ck off. Livid, Rojo gets into a word war with the sh*tty land lord. Let’s just say mild-mannered adults within 10 feet would feel uncomfortable hearing their phone conversations. Two weeks later, we receive a notarized letter from the sh*tty landlord’s attorney, his brother-in-law (no pun intended), basically saying we’re trespassing his property because Rojo isn’t the original tenant.

So here I am, back in Cainta, convincing myself that this is a good thing. Because I’m no longer paying rent and whatever, I’ll be saving a lot more money for a Singapore migration or maybe get myself a vehicle of some sort (I’m leaning towards a Honda Jazz, or VW. Something a hipster would drive. A bike perhaps). I’ll have the opportunity to hang out with my old friends as well. Also, a lot of hometown girls I’ve been noticing on Facebook (I had to).

I do miss, however, the sense of independence I’ve longed for during my teens. The thought of independence really turns me on and I could probably ramble about it for a solid hour or so. I’ll try my best to enumerate the best things about living off your parents:

  1. Living off your parents. Listen, I love my parents. I really do. But I can’t handle 24 hours of them anymore. The constant bickering, the awkward cuddling, it’s a f*cking mess (at least for me). The biggest difference between 26-year old Charles and 16-year old Charles is 26-year old Charles can finally afford to live without them. Yes, I would’ve moved out when I was 15 or 16 if I could.
  2. DIY. It stands for do-it-yourself which means no more home cooked meals (unless you can cook yourself), and free laundry. No more made-bed after getting home from wherever and no more room cleaning itself. I had to eat in carinderias (I can’t cook), and have my laundry done for an average of Php180 for the last 2 years. My bedsheets are changed whenever I get rashes from how dirty it is, and you can plant potatoes and other underground-vegetables in my room. I don’t clean my room. I never clean my room. But still, I had the option to do it myself anytime I thought about it. When my electric fan broke, I had to buy another one cause daddy is no longer around to fix it.
  3. Be hungry all the time. Probably my favorite part of living alone. You’re experiencing what it was like when the rock stars of today felt when they were starting out. For you to win some, you have to lose some. You lose weight as well.
  4. No rules. Probably your favorite part of living alone. You are your own boss and nobody else (unless you have a possesive significant other). Un-curfewed nights. Hang out with your friends whenever. Bring friends over. Watch television all the time. Walk around naked in the house (come on, let’s be honest here). Eat Chinese food five days straight. Have different girls over (okay, totally made that up). But you get the point.
Those are what I can think of on the top of my head right now. I’m pretty sure there are other perks. Something that you totally dreamed about. I miss it already.
P.S. I just ordered — yes, ordered — my little brother to get me a soda and he did. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Filed under: about me, independence, life