Category: Scribbles
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I am sorry, but I have to forgive myself first
By the end of the day, I don’t think I have to apologize for just being who I truly am.
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I remember it was pink
Always be grateful for that one person who chose to stay, even after you told them you wanted to be alone and everyone else decided to just let you be.
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Have you ever?
Have you ever woken up wondering how an old friend is doing, and you rush to your social media to find out, only to realize you don’t know who you are trying to find? Not even the name, the face, the voice, or when and how you met and parted ways with him or her.…
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Freedom
A short note made after a visit to Don Antonio Blanco Museum. Ubud, Bali, December 23, 2015.
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Words
in ScribblesAs much as I miss life, I miss words. Be it mine, be it others. The entangling, the disassembling. Lining up letters, sometimes, forcing them to dance out of their will. Attempting to make sense, struggling to comprehend, paper by paper. Or watching them come to life, under the surface of reflected light. The feeling…
