He probably hoped to study when he was younger, get a decent job as a waiter possibly; engineer if he was dreaming extra big. But life happened, the way it usually happened to people of his class: not your way.
By lunch, maybe he'll be able to afford a packet of instant coffee to pass the hunger, maybe he'll be able to afford a cup of rice with some soy sauce, if he's lucky. By the end of the day, most likely he'll go home hungry and feed his kids at home with what's left of the day's earnings. He'll lie down on an old mattress, if any at all, look up at the roof of his make-shift house, and hope it will not rain tonight-- his pillow just dried after all.
He will sleep and rise the next morning with the hope that one day things will be different. As he walks to the street corner where he works, he knows his situation won't change. This is his life: 'Pasay... Pasay' he cries. Life goes on.
