After the much emotionally tumultuous and boring days have gone by, I finally get the chance to leave my house tomorrow to go to Makati with my mom.

It's merely a small jog compared to other people's vacations in foreign lands, but I couldn't ask for anything else as a mere excuse to leave this lonely and uneventful house of mine.

In my quiet time of solitude, I go over some things that I'd like to accomplish, but sadly some of them are just improbable.

• Take snapshots of the city life
• Find and buy some new books
• Use my credit card (I'm looking forward to this)
• Walk around and enjoy the atmosphere of human sophistication and nature
• Buy useless yet cute things (new stuffed toy, anyone?)
• Spend time thinking (or loathing)
• Get a manicure or a haircut (my mom will hate this terribly)
• Look for new movies
• Find things that will help me forget my troubles

I suppose that we'll be having dinner in Manila since my mom decided to use her voucher already. The expiration is coming close, and my mom doesn't want to waste precious food not spent on.

It's going to be a big break for me, really. I need some fresh air and some alone time to think and to relax. I've been undergoing a lot of emotional stress lately, and I wouldn't want to miss a chance to relieve all of that.

In Another Life

Okay. This is really random and unnecessary, but it's really just curious and conscientious for me.

Last night, I had a dream. Most people dream, of course, but I'm not looking to state the obvious. It was a peculiar and strange dream. It was almost very much like a lucid dream, but somehow in an uncontrolled state. The dream's entire detail was a bit watery, but I managed to remember the most vivid parts only. 

Dreams tap into our subconscious. But sometimes, they could just be omens or wildly odd but accurate predictions of the future. 

In my dream, I was a mother. A young mother to be precise. I was probably at the age of 15 (I'll be turning 15 in November) or any other age that can be considered as a teenager. This part was bit weird, but being motherly in nature it was something I may handle. I remember being in a room which looked very much like an office cubicle, with many other cubicles or rather, rooms adjoining from all sides of the cubicle-like room. People were also there, some in corporate attire, others in hospital wear. They all stared at me with warm yet seemingly cold, stale smiles, as if I were a slab of meat for hungry predators. 

It would have already sufficed as the strangest sight I have seen, until I discovered something else.

In my arms was a young child; a boy who looked like my little brother with some slight adjustments. He was unusually large for his supposed age (but in my family, it's normal) and he stared at me with large, unknowing eyes. I felt sad for some reason. As if I were longing for something to fill the huge gap in my already aching heart. Some twisted turn of fate told me that this child in front of me wouldn't be my only child. Confession time: I've always wanted a daughter because someone had become my pseudo-daughter in the past, and my dream must have incorporated my desire to fulfill that aspiration by telling me that I'd have another child. A girl this time. 

With all my strength I cradled the baby in my arms and took him around the room, searching for an exit. The strange people smiled coldly at us and grinned with their sharp fangs. Some were mindlessly blabbing away like old friends while others reached out for me and congratulated me with empty words. I wanted to pull away and get out of that prison cell. Everything just seemed so dead and cold inside that room. I glanced down at the mystery child in my arms then a sudden onset of depression struck me hard, as if all the burdens of the world was contained in this boy. Though I felt a sad smile grow on my face, and with that I kept on walking, not a care whether my life will be challenged with the birth of this boy.

My dream ends abruptly there. 

It makes me wonder how my subconscious could concoct something ever so mystifying like this. There are so many things to wonder about. Who was that child? Was he really my son? Why was I a young mother? Who were those people? Where was I?

And yet again I face the mystery of another parallel universe.

Favorite Fauna

Yesterday, my friend Graz and I have been tweeting to each other regarding my new blog. Apparently, she has read most of my posts (in all fairness, I've read most of hers) and she directly pointed out that the tone of all I have written is melancholic and love-struck. 


I couldn't really blame her since I have to admit that I really am that type of person to write in such a depressing and serious mood. Being her happy-go-lucky self, she suggested that I write of owls.


Why owls?


For most uninformed people, owls are my favorite animals. I like the occasional panda, dog, fox, deer, and tiger (that's a lot), but owls are the most captivating ones for me.


Funny thing to say, but back then I used to have a difficult time pointing out which animal was my favorite. I was always jumping decisions. I often found myself joining bandwagons with mainstream favorites like dogs, cats, tigers, pandas, and a lot more. I enjoyed it for a while, but it didn't really feel like my favorite. Instead, after some time, I found myself liking something unexpected and underrated, the owl.


Owls are somewhat of a pop culture symbol, adorning various objects as a retro design or acting as a model figurine for any appliance, utensil, or other paraphernalia. But if you think about it, have you chanced upon a person whose favorite animal was an owl? You're most likely to get any other answer.


On occasion, I wonder why I like owls. Though I have some good reasons:

• Owls are birds. In turn, birds are free creatures and as they soar, they inspire one to rise above boundaries and appreciate free will and freedom.
• They have round, glossy eyes similar to mine (haha!)
• Owlets (baby owls) are adorable: small, spherical, and fluffy. Some of them are covered in an immense amount of down feathers, like puffballs!
• Their wings have a very lovely shape.
• They're nocturnal, unlike me. :(
• A symbol of wisdom, and my favorite goddess Athena's pet.
• Owls look good as a hip and retro design (as said above.)
• They keep various food webs intact. 
• They're cute for some indistinguishable reason. :)

My favorite owl is the barn owl. Yeah, I understand how creepy they look but in reality they're very majestic and elegant.


I suppose that's all I have to say about my favorite animal, since at this very moment I'm really just distracted with some of my classmates. Haha.

Kenosis

After a mediocre attempt at isolation, I honestly can say that it worked for me. Maybe my hormones are in effect therefore placing me in a good mood, but on this morning of March 24, I'm in a really good mood. 

The past few days have been a bit stressful and lonely. I've been trying to shut out the bigger issues at stake with escapades of scenic views, cool, crisp weather, and alone time. Though reminiscing isn't too far off from my methods of escape. It's always nice to remember the good memories in life, but unfortunately you'll receive nothing but a splash of cold water on your face when you try to re-live them once more.

The memories are painfully bittersweet, and I cannot help but compare the past to the present, even if my attempts are nothing but futile and underestimated. While I have been reflecting on our previous moments, I realized that it was probably me who was at fault. I've taken you for granted and branded you as the guilty and selfish one. Maybe it's really me who has done wrong, maybe it was you, or maybe it could have been the both of us. There are so many different possibilities and perspectives that are beyond my comprehension. But in my search I found solace.

I feel enlightened, actually. Like I'm ready to confront and talk to you. Negativity, pain, and anger seemed to disappear from my heart and my mind. I think that our previous attempts at resolution were a failure since we failed to speak and think without malice. Strong emotions like anger and grief can twist our perception of things. I was always told that space needs to play a crucial role in our issue, though I was stubborn and refused space in the hopes of closure instead. But now, space from you and others helped me find myself and renew me. I feel much better now, and I'm ready to face you.

I just hope you've done and experienced the same.

I actually finished compiling and posting a short selection of my previous works here. It must have taken me a hour or so. I did contemplate in posting the rest tomorrow, but I'm really just an impatient person. At least I can start writing again.


That's all for now. Good night!

So much for isolation.

22/3/12

It’s been almost a week since i’ve last been online. I vowed not to come into contact with people in hopes of at least rehabilitating myself.

I wanted to distance myself from others since a contributing factor to my enormous problem is peer influence. Certain friends have been influencing me through their actions and thoughts, and apparently they have been very effective in changing me.

I’ve been more outgoing and talkative, and honestly, I feel more free than I have ever been before. My new friends actually make me experience euphoria and freedom, all the while enclosing me in a sense of security.

Though I find such solace in these emotions and experiences, sometimes I feel a sort of exhilarating but confusing rush that comes with my new escapades. All these changes compel me sometimes to just pause for a moment and be quiet for once. In my newfound noise I forget the comforting silence I used to bask in.

Without my consideration for my critic’s preference, I would have chosen to keep my attitude like this. I was never really outspoken or confident with myself, and my new friends made me experience what it was like to be possess those qualities.

But of course, it’s never really about me. It’s always about my critic. I always take into consideration her preferences, likes, dislikes, and things like that. I always have to be the one to adapt to her tastes and wants. I often wonder if she will do the same. But under our circumstances right now, I don’t believe she’ll even bother to do the same.

Love is a very strong factor, and that is the very reason why I am futilely isolating myself from others in order to cleanse myself and change back to my former self. If I was only relentless and begrudging, I would have never done this for my critic’s sake, and for the sake of the utterly broken relationship we’ve tried to repair for so long. I am only so defeated and in surrender in this raging external and internal struggle. I grow so impatient each and every day for chasing nothing but ruined dreams and fragile memories.

And yet I continue to push on.

Flashbacks and Flash Forwards

15/3/12

This morning, I went through the compilation of your letters to me throughout the whole year, starting from late August ending at an abrupt halt in mid-February. It was a small compilation but of a slightly thick width, with the letters varying in size, design, and paper (notebook, intermediate, yellow ruled pad). Most of them were written on yellow ruled pad (a habit you started) with post-it notes up front, adorning the letters like timeless obsolete stamps back in the heydays. I can still recall using one-half crosswise in making your letters, then eventually due time it developed into the habit of using intermediate, bond or oslo paper, and soon enough I found myself in pursuit of your practice of using yellow ruled pad for letters. Sometimes in desperation I’d use childish stationery for your letter. Nonetheless, the letters often brought out the creativity in us, but you never failed nor faltered to be creative.

It’s quite obvious that during the time we started to write letters again, we already had some complication. It was the first “problem” we have ever had in the duration of our friendship. I remember it so vividly despite it being such a long time ago. I profusely scolded and ignored you the week you came back from the leadership seminar in Baguio. Looking back, I realized how immature it was of me to be angry with you when in reality you had no fault. I honestly had no reason to be mad at you. But I made tampo anyway—- leading me to raise my voice and scold you in the cafeteria. You brushed it off smoothly, but your letter conveyed how bothered you are. You expressed how affected you were by my bad temper and mood; that my problem just upgraded you into serious adulthood (if that made any sense). There’s a small drawing of me hitting a defenseless you with a wooden plank, exclaiming the acronym “FO” or rather, “Friendship Over”. I got a little touched by how contrite you are, but I didn’t think so much of it. Only now did I realize that cruel irony just reversed that very scene you drew on that letter.

I rummaged through the undated letters, smiling complacently or letting out a quiet laugh over the messages you wrote, the meticulously or sometimes lazily drawn doodles all over the latter part of the letter, the post-its placed randomly over the paper, and the special goodbye phrase we both began to use after resolving the biggest problem we had (unfortunately it is no longer the biggest one we’ve had). I had to smile at the different nicknames you had for me—-more than I can possibly list down, and all so unique and sweet. I laughed at the different situations you raved on in your letters (like when you forgot your Math and CL books for the exam), and I melted when I read those certain letters which touched me with your sincerity, sensibility, compassion, and love. I know those letters are only painful reminders of our dreamy, paradisiacal past, but then and there did I realize how much we…cared for each other.

Everything now just seems like a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. I feel nothing but grief over my loss of you. I still find it hard to accept my defeat and utter surrender, despite the lengthy period of time we took to talk it out and sadly not resolve anything. Sometimes I feel relieved that I’ve nothing to constrict me from freedom, but sometimes I feel empty because your leaving me felt like an immense part of me was yanked out abruptly. It is only cruel irony that you ended it all, as I remember you being the very person who constantly said that the hardships and problems we face will make our bond stronger and closer. The saddest thing I recall you saying to me was that it is never too late to renew our friendship. Why couldn’t you stay true to your words? It’s really just sad that I lost you. You were so important to me.

“I love you and you know that.”

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you.

14/3/12

Woah. I can’t believe I’m actually quoting Taylor Swift lyrics, but I guess my situation just prompts me to do so. It’s only been two days, well, three weeks actually since I’ve been re-living my death all over again. I have to say that I still don’t want to accept my fate. Though I need to say that I honestly have never felt so free. Relief. That’s what I felt at first. No more constrictions, no strings attached. It’s like I’m breathing fresh air. But nostalgia is cunning. I only find myself missing and longing for you. I wish I could just hold you in my arms again and stay like that forever, not a care in the world as the world turns.

Wearing Thin

11/3/12

It’s hard to be patient for something that will never seem to come. It’s even harder to adapt and accept the things that will only hurt you even more. It feels like a burden, but I honestly have to say that I’m willing to be patient and to wait on you for that long. It’s already so difficult between us, our frustrations and hurt only met with awkward silences, uncomfortable glances, and disappointments. I know that it seems so futile whenever we try to resolve something; I can say that from past experiences and regrets. But we’ve been through so much together, so why must we stop now?

It doesn’t hurt to try once more, to start over and be friends again.

A Short and Personal Letter

11/3/12

Dear God,

It’s the Lenten season. As good and obedient Christians, we’re all needed to sacrifice something, anything, to honor Your Son’s sacrifices for us. I’m not too faithful, as I was considering to abstain only. But I guess You had another plan for me.

I have sacrificed so much, and every single day I feel nothing but death waiting for me. I had put too many friendships at stake, pushed too many to the brink of breakdown, and I had already destroyed the one friendship that had defined me and my whole being. Words and emotions replay over and over again in my head, relapsing my tumultuous guilt, grief, and pain. Guilt for my past mistakes, the branded faults that seared through countless hearts; grief over the loss of the youthful innocence which bound so many of my friendships, doubled with my loss of my pseudo-child’s love for me, and pain for the burdens that will forever remain burned into my mind.

Every night, I feel angrier and unhappier with what You are planning to do to me. Why does my sacrifice have to place my relationship with other people at stake? Couldn’t it be something else, like abstaining from meat or the Internet for all I care? It didn’t have to be this way. I didn’t have to endure watching all my friendships crumble into oblivion. I didn’t have to endure having my heart broken repeatedly by my own pseudo-child. I didn’t have to endure dying every single day. But whatever happens, happens. Nothing will ever change, and resilience is the only thing I can rely on to keep me alive.

With all these sacrifices I have made, I just hope You have something good in store for me.

Love, Nina

Too Close For Comfort

6/3/12

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love being close to people, but sometimes it’s the closure that can kill off relationships and fracture friendships like fragile glass. Being careful is an understatement; you need more than caution to prevent closure from crossing the boundaries of comfort to hurt.

Wishful Thinking

28/2/12

Whoever thought that silence and a roving mind could bring about a lot of unwanted stress? Thinking is mighty helpful for times I need to calm down and relax, but unfortunately, my relaxing exercise just makes me insinuate too much and causes me a burden of stress that turns out too depressing. Worrying doesn’t help too, especially if I think too much about my past regrets and future guilt.

Exclusivity

24/2/12

Life never fails to always remind me that friendship is perpetually complicated. Even the most youthful of friendships lead to betrayal, hurt, and grudges. I still need to eventually realize and accept the fact that my perspective on friendship, exclusivity, and platonic love is already beyond my years.

I want to be free for once.

To live in my own dream world.

Where everything will be in my own taste of perennial perfection. If perfect meant unchanged, or undisturbed.

Where there would be gateways to the alternate universes that would serve as escapes from my own reality.

Where the things that have changed would still remain the same.

But sadly, no. I can’t remain in a dream-like trance because that will only lead to the destruction of the only reality I have.

Stress Ball

I write because I need to relieve so many of my frustrated emotions. It’s always just comforting to put into words all the thoughts I do not have to strength to say or to do. Therapy, that’s how I see it. Writing is just one big stress reliever for me, whether or not I write a poem or a fucking essay while I’m at it. Talking also works for me, but I am only met with disappointment because sometimes the people I want to converse with are busying themselves with something that seems more worthwhile than listening to me. It makes me feel just utterly pathetic and useless. So I guess writing is working slightly better for me right now.

I’ve always known myself as a quiet girl, so perhaps in my perspective it would have been fitting to find refuge not in people, but in leisure and hobbies and whatnot. Of course people change over the course of years, and now I find myself rather noisy and more outgoing now. There are some people I trust wholly with my life and its secrets, but sometimes I only feel all alone, which depresses me even further. I have but no choice than to turn to prose and poetry, one of the few things that can actually make my mind sober up from all the damn tears and heartaches and fucking bullshit. Writing instantly relieves all my tension and frustration; it never fails to do so. Unless I’m writing a self-pity entry, it always works.

I admit that I’m not a very good writer, but my purpose of writing isn’t to impress anyone.

Demigods

11/2/12

It’s interesting to hear about a submerged issue like the Parthenon Marbles, otherwise known as the Elgin Marbles. Disputes like these would really make you want to think critically and concisely on the nature of many heritages and cultures on a much broader and worldly perspective, and it makes you realize that these very articles of a cultural identity, through harsh maltreatment or just plain carelessness and selfishness, would all go to waste in such little time.

Crisis

11/2/12

The problem with having a high level of sensitivity is that even the slightest uncoordinated or contradictory action, thought, word, or emotion can already cause a great amount of disturbance, hurt, and heartbreak.

Just A Thought

10/2/12

I don’t understand why I have to be jealous almost all the time. Even the simplest of things affect me so greatly in any way. It’s healthy, my guidance counselor said, to be jealous sometimes, but too much jealousy can be dangerously unhealthy already. I guess I’m a little overdosed at this rate that I’m going. I really don’t know; I can’t help but be bothered by so many things. I sometimes wished I never reached this level of intimacy and sensitivity.

It’s just through the frickin’ roof.

Countdown

A few things (10, actually) that some people ought to know or be reminded of.

When I get mad: I either ignore you, give you a piece of my mind, or smile at you through gritted teeth, and with a heavy heart, tell you I am alright. So, which of the three would you prefer?

I cry when I become too jealous. :|

I’m emotionally unstable, or in lighter terms, very sensitive. Beware.

I dislike it whenever people act so contradictory to what they feel. It’s not fun to keep guessing.

Over thinking is my thing. Especially if someone does the same thing as I stated in point number four.

I have my ways in finding out who back stabs me. So there’s no point in lying. :)

I’m not afraid to bite back in a fight.

When I get all serious and talk to you about problems, it isn’t nice to beat around the bush. Be straightforward, and be responsive.

It would be really helpful if you didn’t act so insensitive towards me.

Don’t try to piss me off. Seriously.

:|

Pages and Modules

28/1/12

• The perks of arriving early comes in the form of roaming half the school campus, wild and free. My friend Lia and I re-lived the GS experience. It also wasn’t so bad to run through the field back in the HS. :) 
• Instead of jeepneys, we rode school buses (2 were of Lia’s school service) to our destination in Barangay Bagong Silangan. From jeepneys to school buses. Sosyal! 
• The roads of Barangay Bagong Silangan were very, very narrow or masikip. It’s a wonder that vehicles can still pass through here. 
• Brookside was honestly very humble, much like rural settings. The little chapel was cozy, with the wooden furniture and all, and the school was decently spacious enough for the rowdy kids. 
• Meeting with the Grade 4 students was awkward but exciting. A lot of them were absent (15 students!), but that didn’t stop the remaining from showing their wits. 
• In Kapitbahay sessions, it’s usually the ates who get to pick their students. In my case, a group of four girls dragged me off to their table because of their fascination of me. I have to honestly say it flattered and amused me. (how shameless!) 
• Since I’m such an Inglishera (sp), it was lovely teaching English to my alagas. Math was hard to teach since my alagas were becoming distracted and the equations were fully FRACTIONS. But nonetheless, it was a great bonding and teaching experience. :) 
• Break time was amusing. The children ate corned beef and rice, which seemed like a much better meal than a soggy burger I was eating. I found myself curious about theisaw being sold by a tindero. The isaw was so miniscule. 
• I was disappointed when I found out it was time to go already. :( I really enjoyed sharing my knowledge with the children and I loved sharing in their laughter. 
• The ride back to MC was much more quiet; it was evident that we were all exhausted. But no one failed to paint a smile on their face. :) 
• I ended this event by roaming around the campus and hanging out with my classmates. Full circle, anyone? 
• Today was the Brookside Tutorial of I-1 and I-2. It truly was an amazing, fun-filled experience. :)

Writer's Block

27/1/12 

• I must have walked more than 5K today. Half of Katipunan and half of both Ateneo and Miriam College is far. It was exercise of course, and some sun couldn’t hurt. 
• So much for spending 70 on a ticket for a fair that was barely so-so. 
• It was amusing to interact with the middle school students from my friend’s school service. Some of them were slightly obnoxious, but their youthful banter put a smile on my face. :) 
• I bought a witty white shirt that says: “BRB = I don’t want to talk to you; LOL = I have nothing else to say; Cool = I don’t really care.” My teacher read my shirt and responded with “Cool.” I see what you did there, my good man. 
• I received my report card today. My grades were beautiful, except it turned out lopsided courtesy of my Math grade. If only I pushed myself even more. 
• I’m definitely bipolar. After a day of fun filled escapades (is it fitting that I describe it that way?), I suddenly felt so lonely and depressed and frustrated and exhausted. That’s probably the reason why I shouldn’t get so worked up. 
• I still need to attend the Brookside Tutorial of my class tomorrow. With this much energy drained, I probably won’t be able to wake up and get out of my bed tomorrow. But my excitement to teach the young budding learners from Barangay Bagong Silangan keeps me motivated to do so. :) 
• Oh, and, it was such a pleasure seeing you today. :| :(

Youth

We are lovers, you and I.

Dusk 'till dawn

we shall hold each other in our arms, 

and embrace each other

with the warmth of a passion burning.

My fingers are forever entwined in yours.

Don't let go. 

Sweet nothings and heavenly sighs

emerge from your cracked lips. Little

whispers of pleasure and bliss form

in your mouth. I

cannot help but

hush you instead. Your 

 warm breath is tickling 

my ear. 

Tinkling chimes of the

morning bell remind me

of the soft, sweet kisses you

always left on my

now blushing cheek. How rosy are your lips.

Soft they are to the touch, and how they curl

at the slightest kiss I give you. 

I wrap your arms around me.

Those long, lanky arms of yours

embrace me with the lightest touch.

I want no other security blanket. You

comfort me, assure me, and warm me

from the cold, chilly air

of the wet, rainy season. 

The moon blushes, and the stars twinkle

with childish laughter. 

The sun cannot help but wink at us. But

who are they to stop us?

I love you. 

You are mine. Forever and always. 

Let our youthful love begin. Let it never end.

So light my cigarette, baby.

and let's dance to our drunken stupor of

break-away blues and guitar strums. 

Melodious is your voice.

Entice me, my lover

with your honey-dipped notes

and plucking strings

serenading me

with a different kind of rhythm. Syncopated. 

You'll dance to the low notes, and

I'll dance to the high notes. Together,

we'll dance 'till we create the

perfect harmony. 

Sing to me.

Sing to me of your

frustrations, troubling woes, and of

your broken heart. 

I will be your healer.

Let my melody match the rhythm

of your still-beating heart, and let it

come back to life

once more. Dancing

to our beat.

You are my lover,

and I am yours. The summer days

are hot and passionate; the

winter nights are cool

and dreamy. Love is in

abundance. Let our youthful

laughter fill the endless times, and

let our young, naive love

be the start of all things

new.

31/7/11

Reading this again makes me wonder how intoxicated I was with romantic love before.

Timeless

Compel me

to write you an

Effigy of

your untimely death

to my memories

Ghost, you are

nothing but an

Icy touch

of these

Memoirs; they only hold

back

melancholia.






23/12/11

Reverse

That look in your eyes;

you stare back at me again,

thinking

how perfect I must be.

I stare back at you.

I wish that I could not feel

insecure 

whenever you praise

me.

I am nothing but

helpless

within your presence 

as you come to mind 

all my virtues. 

As others speak of me,

you cannot help but

encourage more out of them,

nourishing their ideas of

an epitome of perfection. 

You can't help but notice

the beauty I do not see,

the wisdom I do not hold, 

the strength I do not empower, 

the heart I do not have. 

You also can't help but 

adore 

my rosy cheeks. 

I do not wish to tell you

directly, my dear,

but perhaps in humility, you would have

disagreed if I told you

how perfect you are compared 

to me. 

How lucky you are to be 

blessed with the dreamfully, sweet gift

of eternal youth,

and in your memory

you shall not be forgotten. 

The little sparkle in your eyes,

that mischievous, impish grin,

the curves of a childish face, and

those faded, brown locks of yours

remind me of a future

I would have wanted,

and will always want.

In this sweet, sad melody

I sing for you,

and devote myself to a love

you would have desired;

pure, chaste, giving, and

sacrificing.

For you to look through

my golden eyes

will be my hopes

forlorn,

so you may see

what it's like to be

me looking back at

you.






3/11/11

Waiting

I wait for so long

until the dust settles 

and the frost sears through my skin, 

will you come back for me---

---a long-forgotten memory

of blissful love

and of sweet dreams

now left to wither away

in the cold;

will you come back for me?






3/11/11

First things first

So, hi. This isn't really my first blog. I suppose it's more of another avatar or continuation of my previous blogs. 

I'll be compiling and posting most of my previous poems and personal thoughts for now. When that's finished, I'll feel accomplished and proud and soon I'll start to write freely again.

That's all. Feel free to read all the things I'll post here. :)