of escapism and further

I was fourteen when I realized I didn’t like where I was—Roxas City. Nothing much happened here; it was the same every day. The things I heard on the radio were almost the same, over and over. The same news about the supernatural sightings, news of unexplained phenomena—but no eyewitness to recount the scenarios. It... Continue Reading →

an open letter to people who matter

I have been going through a lot these past few months. I have been preoccupied with a lot of negative thoughts and emotions: unlikely self-doubt, stubborn regrets, recurring insecurities, iniquitous indecision, uncertainty of my own future, and the likes. I haven’t been myself, and I have decided, against my own good reason, not to bother... Continue Reading →

The Writing Room

A genie has granted your wish to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like? My ideal room for reading and writing would be a forty-one square meter attic converted to a small library. Facing north is a small round window, where enough amount of sun- and moonlight seeps through and allows... Continue Reading →

Will You Ever Love Me Again

I was a dunce; I was foolish. I always thought you will stay, you will be patient, you will always be mine. I was stupid; I was a joke. I believed my self-made fantasies of us blending in--quietly and unnoticed. And I counted all the things that I did wrong, and there's only one mistake... Continue Reading →

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