Mga markang hugis paa sa kantong madilimnaaaninag ang kabalintunaan ng langit na kulimlimhawakan mo ang iyong puso, baka sakaling mabasagsa salamin ng umagang dala’y baligtad na liwanaghawak ang sampaguita sa lupa’y humimlaydalangin sa mga poong naghihintay sa kabilang tulay TRANSLATION:
By here, I meant somewhere, but it’s not found on a map. There’s no X Marks the Spot. Here could be a void, a floating corner in the universe, in a vacuum, under the earth. But here is a good
Excuse me, I’ve caught the I Can Only Write One Thing disease. Believe me, it’s bad. The worse. Like trying to squeeze things out of your head but your entire skull is like a dam that won’t open. And as
I’m back! Or am I? Is this just a fleeting illusion where I imagine myself using my blog’s still-confusing, block-utilizing editor? Is this a fake mirage where I finally got the time to sit down and ramble about nothing? Not
The weather has reached a point where the atmosphere feels like the sun is pressing down on you and you perpetually cower under feelings of fatigue and irrational tiredness and want to fall asleep. It makes work so hard, because
Let me describe the past week to you: on Monday, we woke up as early as 5 a.m., brushed our teeth, sipped some coffee, and headed out home to make our way into the election precinct. There’s something about this
