@re-joyce 8 May 2026

When I was a kid I thought going to Jollibee and eating Chickenjoy was the definition of being rich. Not because it was expensive— but because it was rare. I remember staring at the red yellow and white store like it was a different world. A place where happiness had a smell… and it smelled like fried chicken. It wasn’t just food. It was reward. It was celebration. It was “we made it through something.” And maybe that’s why it stayed in my memory. Because childhood has a way of attaching meaning to simple things— things adults forget to notice later on. Now I understand it wasn’t really about Chickenjoy. It was about moments we couldn’t afford every day… so we learned to treasure them deeply when they finally came. And maybe that’s why even now, when life gets better, some of us still eat like it’s a celebration. Because once upon a time… it was.