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1. Dinner with some friends and the conversation turned to art (oh god here we go). As usual, I kept my mouth shut, because, well, what do I know really? I just like standing in front of big windows and looking

1. What happened is, I sat on my desk yesterday and found that bits and pieces of my life were stolen. I know no other way to say it except that. It feels a lot like someone is stealing my life,

1. Let's try this again. 2. The truth is, I was confronted with the fact that the space I have created for myself is not invincible. It is a thing I had to digest for a while. I had thought myself under the

“I write for myself and strangers.” — Gertrude Stein

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Where I live, we have a home development mutual fund that everybody calls, Pag-IBIG. It's an acronym for Pagtutulungan sa Kinabukasan: Ikaw, Bangko Industriya at Gobyerno (Working Together for the Future: You, Industrial Banks and the Government - my translation,

Today is going to be a hard day. Almost a year ago I lost my grandfather. Today I haven't got my own father back yet. Not quite. He hasn't fully moved on. I haven't fully moved on. How will we

"There's a dark joy in me that laughs at your meager gifts."

Grown-up talk with my father during lunch today about my future. Specifically: how my net income is doing, if I'm on my way towards earning a million (hah!), moving out, and more plans for when I'm thirty. It was scary.

Edith Tiempo passed away yesterday. She was 92. I feel a strange kind of sadness. I will never meet her. I won't pretend how much an impact she has made on my life --- I didn't go to the workshop,

1. I was just looking at photos of cats painting on walls and blank canvases. Before that, I was staring out the window, spurred out of my chair with the sudden noise. The culprit: fireworks at past one in the morning

I feel a mixture of sadness and happiness, for reasons I cannot quite explain. There is that heavy feeling I can't name, sitting quietly inside my chest. I have said to myself, the other night, how I could've been so

I can't shake you off, no matter how hard I try. Listening to Nina Simone. Smoking and reading this poem. I Never Want To Go When It's Time Kate Light I never want to go when it's time to go; I want to hang

1. I don't know if it's the dizzying heat or my anxiety, but my head feels extraordinarily heavy. I want to lock myself in a closet and stay huddled there for days in the dark. A card on my desk reads,

I loved this for the sound ever since I first heard it. — I can't remember how many times I've stood there, before the woods of my life, before the evenings of my life. How it called to me, like a

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