I won't be able to participate, so better share the word.
Home is hope. I really want to go home. For a student living away from home, I can see hope. June is approaching. Time for vacation. Time for refreshment. Time for reflection. Time for rejuvenation. Truth be told, when I get back to the Philippines I don't want to leave again. It may seem riotous… Continue reading HOME
I thanked him for hurting me. I thanked him for making me attached. I thanked him for making me fall, especially into that pit. That pit full of promises and sincerity, - love in the making. Though he hurt me while I was hurting, I still thanked him. I don't know why am I being… Continue reading Thankfully Scarred
For us, writers, this is such a profound question of our existence. Writing for me, has always been a constant source of inspiration and sheer joy. The intensity and magnitude of exhilaration that writing gives can’t possibly be gauged. I, for one, cannot even find words to construct a coherent answer to define this feeling, this beautiful feeling that I experience when I write. Writers feel this way. But why do they?
Maybe it’s this uncanny ability of penning down something heartfelt that transmogrifies our complete state of being when the weight of our emotions gently get absorbed in long parchments and old diaries. Maybe it’s the written monologue that elevates our souls to a level of blissful equilibrium. Maybe it’s the effortless exercise of mind-cleansing that writing brings with itself. Maybe it’s the fact that writing is a medium of communion between the deepest corners of our minds and the strangest…
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