1. "The memory fades, and I’m left hanging on to the ghosts of his words."
    — Marie Lu, Legend

    (Source: larmoyante, via introv-erted)

  2. I’ve left home a couple of times already. I am not new about the fact that I would feel emptiness as I walk down across the streets, and I would feel longing tugging between my blanket at the middle of the night.

    The first time I left home, I was sent to Pangasinan because my parents couldn’t find someone to watch me over because they have to work and they are both in night shift. Just few weeks after I turned four. I stayed there for two months and I thought it won’t happen again.

    I was wrong. It did. Boy, it did happen again. The struggle of finding a house helper is infuriating. I’ve been with babysitters who’d hurt me at their pleasure. It’s an A++ for a childhood, isn’t it?

    One of the main reasons why I asked for a sibling is so they could not make me leave. They really, really, really have to find someone and I won’t have to leave home again.

    Today, I’m leaving home again. Or maybe I’ve left already by the time you are reading this. It’s probably because of the always fleeing and fleeting series of my life that I’ve always been homesick my entire existence.

    Always searching for home. Searching it on people if they have roofs in their arms, if they have open windows on their eyes. Until that whole chase seemed to be the closest to home. It became home.

    Tomorrow is the start of seeking for the great perhaps, or maybe we are all seeking for it the entirety of our lives.

    There are goodbyes to be said.

    I will never say mine.

  3. Sauntering around Manila: Project Greenery

    They say that I’ve always have a keen eye for trees. The nature has really got something ethereal within it, and the good thing about it is that it’s ours.

    It’s one of the few things that they can never take from us. A landscape, a scenery, a prairie, a view from the mountain — cut it, destroy it, flatten it — the images imprinted on our mind will never cease.

  4. Sauntering around Manila: Zoology

    The real plan is to name this “The Birds and The Beasts”, recalling a short story I’ve read when I was in third grade (Or was it the battle between the birds and the beasts?) but somehow I thought it kinda appears drastic thus the change of name. 

    I don’t know what’s happening but I found myself telling and whispering them — the animals — to hold on, or something like that. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen the real state of the zoo after many years of not being back.

    My favorite would be the aviary section because some of the birds made it through out the roof and they were flying around it but not far from their place. It reminds me of Madagascar because I can sense freedom there! However, I took a selfie with a tiger because it’s my spirit animal — the grumpy cat, err.. tiger.

    It’s also a lovely thing that I’ve visited two zoos just after I am finished reading Life of Pi. The book opened my eyes regarding about how growing up in a zoo is not bad at all, quite wonderful even.

    “I am the Zero Zoo. See the empty cage that is my heart. I’d like to imprison your love there.
” — Jarod Kintz, Love Quotes for the Ages. Specifically Ages 19-91.

  5. "Inaasam muling makatabi at mahalik, sana." I took quite a lot of photos, eh?


  6. "

    This is going to be a devastation. I am in love with someone. I don’t know how many or how much I love yous are ringing in my head, but I think I heard someone dialing 911 when she saw me flinch at the thought of muttering those words in a nonverbal sense.

    It’s been kissing me good night, you know, this thought. Sometimes they would come as “I love you this much,” on my blackout days “God, I love you. What have I done to deserve such a good thing to be in love with you?”

    I believe the good portion is the loving part, rather than being loved. I heard many people swoon at the sight of their lovers. I don’t fucking know why I swoon at the sight of my beloved. Is this a some sort of a selfish speech?

    I don’t know. Fuck, how would I know?

    Loving.. well, loving is an investment. Time, money, feelings, but most of all, investing yourself to this person — not just to this someone who’s been the sole dedication of my ‘I love yous’, but also to a whole new you. It’s true, love changes people. It’s true, love is the greatest makeover artist in this lifetime.

    But given that you won’t change at that phase of time, that is what you call taking a risk. Taking a risk to invest all of you. Jumping off the cliff, wearing your heart at your finger, getting yourself killed. That is the thrill of loving.

    You either gain profits from your investment, you pull out your stocks, or the worst, you lose it all.

    That is why this is going to be a devastation. I am devastated. And I am falling in love even more, I can’t help it.


  7. there’s a touch in the woods, and nothing burned like the cold

    Mother told me just yesterday that I used to be very expressive.

    Dancing in public places whenever there’s music playing. Heavy coloring which leads to vibrant and thick colors. Also resulting to peeled off skin and chopped wax. Declaring love in actions and in words.

    I was never the timid one. I’d say things with conviction, with adoration in my eyes. I even report topics like an orchestra master: my hands are everywhere. I, myself, is everywhere.

    I never regret things doing that way. I guess people, or half of them, would be missing the chances of their life just because they starve themselves from emotions.

    But you know how things change. The wind and the tide are both part of it. There is always a time when a part of us will be blown as the wind howls. Always a part of us is lost whenever the tide is ebbing, and a part returned when the waves rush to the shore.

    I figured it out today. It’s just.. it’s just that I saw you coming down from your car, not that actual some sort of prince in a carriage act. I saw you and I felt like there’s a turmoil inside me. There’s this feeling somewhere I can’t point out where is it coming from.

    It was pricking the end of my nerves, shivering my spine. Like there were magmas inside my body and they exist because they were coming from my core and they can’t bare it any longer.

    I am a crust breaking down. I am plates colliding. I am forming mountains, cripples of sweat. I am a volcano.

    You came near me and for a moment, I’m afraid to be next to you. I hope my eyes doesn’t seem to be devouring you. I hope wanting is not registered in the circles of my irises.

    I hope that when I touch you, you wouldn’t burn.

    But after all, a smile is the only thing I could ever afford. God, that smile could launch a thousand rockets to the sky and I wouldn’t mind if debris would fall where ever it would like to fall. I just don’t mind.

    I still am, Mom. Goddamn, I still am.