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Hello.

It's 3AM and I'm revisiting this blog I made seven years ago, when I was in high school. I don't have thoughts I want to write publicly nor is this an attempt to revive this blog. It's been long dead. It'd take a miracle. Besides, if ever I wanted to express myself, there are many other avenues I could take.

This is a relic. A reminder of my past. What I wrote about before and the feelings they inspired in me I can no longer find in myself. Yet this is still me. All me although through comparison, those two people are contradictory.

Do I seek reconciliation? Probably. Do I think I'm closer to what's "right" now? That I've made progress? I don't know. I'd like to say I have, but self-criticism and overt self-doubt makes me believe regression is the path I've taken.

That's probably not completely true.

My apologies again, guys, for not updating for a long, long time.

I have been working on another blog entitled “Isip-bata, Isip-katha” (Childish mind, Creative Mind). It has been a long and tiring battle. Struggling to post frequently is not my description of blogging. Still, I achieved first place! 15 entries were passed, and yet I prevailed!



Life has gone really fast. Time has escaped me once more. I realized that with this pace, you have to treasure your victories. I need to embrace my life as it is. Not asking for more.

Farewell for now...

I promise I’ll write sooner.


          Have you ever heard someone having Dyslexia for numbers ? Well, if you haven’t, then you should now believe. I think I’ve been struck with this impairment.

          It’s no goolahoo or magic trick. I’ve been diagnosed, well, by myself and it’s serious. I can’t seem to stand numbers anymore. What was once to me easy peasy, seems to be a bunch of scribbles and lines that make nothing more than a piece of abstract and that makes me furious.

          It commenced that one gloomy Monday night. Our teacher in math had given another assignment and I was burning the candle. I could have solved all of them with ease as I usually do (I love Math.)


Have you ever done origami before ?

Well, if you haven’t … You definitely should. The urge to make a three- dimensional animal or flower from just a scrap of paper has raised the number of origami makers by millions. I admit, I myself is a victim of the amazing craft.

As soon as I touched the smooth texture of the paper, I knew I had to fold it. As soon as I traced the pattered creases I made on the paper, it immediately turned into a wonderful swan. By the second I finished another work of art, I just needed to make another one, more spectacular. By the time I mastered the ropes, every paper found in my hand, in whatever condition it may have been, was beaten to perfection.

Origami means “folding paper” but I warn you dear folks, it isn’t easy as just bending the paper back or forth. The models you see on the internet may seem easy and I viewed  it once the same way too. But that was before the seemingly simple heart fold came to me as just an orderly list of steps in which I attempted to understand.

"The moment the wheels of the huge airplane gave a deafening thud and the whole craft shook , I knew.

I knew that time never can go backwards. I also knew that I could not redo the past. That dreams and hopes will never bring me back to where I want to be or I should be.  That time and the whole entire world only goes in one direction, forward. There are no return trips or refunds so you got to enjoy the scene while it lasts.


Amidst a huge shadowy swamp,a nervous eye opened, then followed by million others.  A deafening silence then... BAMM!  One fleeting second, they are all gone, forced to leave.

Their bountiful home was once filled with lush biodiversity, the sky filled with endless foliage of treetops and songbirds, the waters swarming with blurs of rainbows as hundreds of fish swim by and the land on which mighty elephants roam and tigers prowl has been a gloomy place since man cast a shadow over them.

Broad daylight strikes and man keeps trudging on in the name of progress and survival, mindlessly destroying and weaving a dangerous path for all of them. Yet still they continue, knowing the consequence, but never caring.

The world on which once they lived on was never the same as mountains and mountains of trash cover the mighty land and encompass even the highest mountains giving no space for the panthers and zebras to lurk. The oceans that many moons ago were so blue was now reeking with oil and the skies that once carried us fresh air was now filled with the stench of pollution.