The struggle between good and evil has been going silently for occupation of my soul for the last 13 years every time I pass by Padre Burgos Ave.  It is a chronic heartfelt intention to visit the National Museum; a prayer that always gets drowned out by the reality that spending 3 hours in traffic just to get to the Philippine senate’s former august halls (when they used to define august, one may say) and view an elitist time capsule may not be worth a day off.

This time I have kids, whom I may have spoiled enough to articulate a strong opinion