Good Friday

Every Good Friday, I remember myself walking from Caloocan City, 4th Avenue, Grace Park to be exact to the Grotto in Novaliches, Quezon City.
Along with some friends, we go there on bare foot and try "enjoying" the long walk. Of course, water was not a problem as we get to refill our water and sometimes, are lucky enough to fill it with instant juice drink some kind-hearted souls offer the pilgrim.
We start at 11 or 12 o 'clock Thursday night and usually arrive in our destination at 7 to 8 a.m.
It's a long walk. We bring a guitar man, and a tangero who brings along a bottle or two of our favorite brandy, a water jug and two pairs of plastic cups.
We sing youthful songs and try to keep our voice down even as we start to feel groggy and hot inside with those seemingly endless shots of brandy being handed over by our tanggero.
Regardless of what my parents would say, I enjoy the company of my friends who do not take the penitence seriously. At least we did our best.
We were young… what can I say?
I wonder where are they now?