Monday, July 11, 2016


“There are no faster or firmer friendships than those formed between people who love the same books.”

This is just speculation, but there’s a truthfulness in these words. What if you actually encounter one person in your life and that person literally have read and loved what you have read? It must be real heaven, a truly wonderful event in one’s life.

This alone qualifies the beginning of firm connections between and among exploring beings.

Saturday, June 18, 2016


Today my father might not know that it's Father's Day, until I greet him. It's been four difficult years since it all started. I thought I wasn't graduating. I spent most of my time in the hospital, beside my father, hoping that tomorrow a divine light will shine so he'll move.

Our world just turned 360 degrees, and even more, after he got stroke. I had to change my routine: waking up in the morning and putting my toes against his toes so they get stretched, holding his feet so they get stimulated--instead of jogging early or going to gym. The memories of him standing and moving, he didn't know this could happen. It's a miracle that he can still talk and tell me how much he loves me. Everyday, he reminds me that when he couldn't already speak he just wanted me to know how much he loves me. Everyday, I show him how much his son wants him to feel good, for all the greatest reasons in this world, that his actions would speak of love, and his mind would think of light. It's today that he needs our careful hands, as he's at his most fragile state.

I always look at the silverlining, and how it could change our lives forever. When I greet my father today, he'll be thankful, he might cry of joy and pain. I will pick up his stiff hand and pray. I will carefully lift him up from the bed and tell him "Happy Father's Day, Papc..i love you."

To all of the fathers who read this, the way you love your children will be the reflection of how they will love you back, someday, even in the most challenging part of your lives.

I hope you take good care of each other, as it's the best way to show love. Happy Father's Day!

Saturday, April 2, 2016


...and why don't people love The Catcher in the Rye?

Monday, March 21, 2016


Just a quick post. I'm currently writing in my office and it's very cold. I got hot chocolate drink to solve it. These past days have been pivotal for my personal growth. Sometimes the world just stops and you think about the things that you do on a whim, until the time that you stare at the wind watching silver dusts in the sun. It's different now, day by day things are getting clearer and I feel like a snowball is waiting for me, I really do.

My life is like a revolver, utterly dependent as to whether or not it's loaded. It's aiming for something bullish. But I'm coping, time is still precious and abundant. There's something more than this.

Saturday, March 14, 2015


I'm glad that things aren't getting worse, well at some point they are, but they are no worries. Everything isn’t permanent anyways; that can be either a good thing, or a bad thing. It doesn't surprise me anymore that some people decide on a whim, that their choices can ripple, and their voices can't be a piece of cake. So, why do I say these? It really is easier to write things down, than to do them, in fact, there are more things we have yet to do and they are nearing.

It isn't really nice talking about our lives sometimes, because no one could understand. So we write it down somewhere safe, where they can't be read by many friends, where we can either shed tears or laugh it all down for crying out loud. These are impermanent words that are bound to be forgotten, because really, they don't know you.

It happens as well when you are alone in the city, with all the buildings standing and people walking under the lucid sun. I did that. First, I sat down outside a restaurant without ordering anything. I just came from the gym and I saw a couple looking after their ponytailed girl holding french fries powdered with cheese. The girl's fingers were also powdered with cheese. She cleaned her fingers up after she had exhausted all of it. I thought she wanted more, but she was sleepy, and her parents were hurrying up. I stayed there for an hour, looking around for things that might catch my eyes. I said maybe I can write about it in the future, and when I write about it they could sound more interesting. But no. I was bored just hearing murmurs from the parents sitting with their kid on the other side. I just thought of having a baby some time, that can solve it. So I bent a little and looked down at the ground floor and saw a white car in front of the hotel and watched.

The chauffeur went out of the car with a buffet of white flowers in white ribbon. He was attaching it in front of the car. He left the flower and he went back to the car and then opened the front hood. He ran back and then fixed the dear ribbon, forced it and knotted in the radiator and the buffet didn't fall. He was heavily perspiring, wearing a black shirt and dark jeans. He was a wreck, but he fixed the ribbon and car was okay.

I stood up after he went away and I took a walk to find a jar of whey protein powder. I went downstairs and saw different faces. I went around and asked the guard where the sports store was. The guard was puzzled and I saw his wrinkles, even though he was young. His forehead was shiny, of course with wrinkles. He looked like a dark wet chewing gum. He said he was just newly hired and thought there were a few. So I went to the other mall hoping that there were any. I watched my steps and saw the beige staircase and thought of a caramel cake. I found a sports house and went in. There was air con inside, but it still felt so warm. I knew there wasn't any because the seller said they didn't sell some. She was lying down and sleepy. I told myself why everyone was sleepy, and I went down using the escalator.

I took a walk on the side street and I went to see a garden surrounded by buildings, it was very warm. I needed to cool off. So I discovered that there was another mall when I arrived at the garden. The garden had a pond with little fishes getting lost. There were tons of light brown blocks on the floor and around the pond. I went in the mall, still with a container of whey in my head. I went up and ended up in a bookshop. It felt really cold and I wasn't wet anymore. I said I might get sick, but fuck off.

The bookshop was full of hippie looking teenagers who didn't seem to like reading. They looked all good with thin clothes and short skirts. They looked cool. I went out because I didn't like to be with those cool hippies, I went out of the mall. I walked in a dark passageway in the garden and went out of it, it was pretty cool, I walked by a coffee shop with white people sitting outside smoking. I was perspiring again because I walked a little faster. My jeans, it went warmer. So I realized that I haven’t eaten yet, I kept on walking looking for food. I reached the corner of the street and went inside the Family Mart in front of the McDonald's. I was hungry, but I chose a cheap soya drink to curb it off a bit. I just wanted to sit down again, and to watch. I sat there behind the transparent glass watching shiny cars' reflection of wobbling shiny buildings. I watched people walk in and out of the store and I realized it was in the corner. I sat still and the guard was kind of watching me, and others, waiting for us to do something stupid in his shiny store.

That day was fun, in a way that my eyes were well fed and my calves worked well. Now, isn't it really nice talking about our lives sometimes? I doubt it. It really is easier to just write them down than to do them. I must say I liked experiencing them more than writing them, but I didn't say I didn't like writing them. Everything, like this one is fleeting, but each of it sounded a little bit more and more of like myself. It wasn't mundane because I chose what to do. Why be sad when we have a choice?