Dream big, aim high, reach for the stars -- you might land on the sky. I'm a 21 years old whose ready to battle life's problems, and fight for so many advocacies.. (one too many) because I have a dream! Wait, that sounds familiar? Who said that... Oh right, Martin Luther King, and also everyone else. That's the… Continue reading Dreams and Reality, What happens, when they don’t meet?
I oft liken myself to a mere blush present on one's cheek soon to fade away but as I lay on the sand I think of nothing good nor bad it is just me and the sky the clouds, getting dark I stand to roam around the waves are kissing my toes at… Continue reading beaches and shores, adventure galore.
I wrote this poem because I remembered my beautiful experience at La Union where I saw 2 different diapers stuck in the sand. I didn't even expect to see 1 let alone 2. People, clean up your shit. (literally) Environmental advocacies, Sexual harassment atrocities, Political parties we choose to debate these profusely "these… Continue reading The Waves and Our Waste
I'd like to disregard one of the topics that I've written before, it was entitled "Firearms and children", in the heat of the school shootings, I, like everybody else have been feeling confused and sad about the tragedy. In our scrambling pursuit to pinpoint why this keeps happening, the media has placed the blame on… Continue reading In the mind of a psychopath
“Shoot myself to love you; if I loved myself I’d be shooting you.” – Marilyn Manson Your arms smile eyelashes were mine But then I grew up and I chose you less I loved myself in this it ended my sadness You seem so far away I can barely remember what you… Continue reading it’s not about love anymore
the wheels are tinkering against the rust which are actually lined with more dust they make the bells ring loudly even though my children are sleeping soundly a mother, a lover, a wife, a daughter these are the roles that I play in my life I think as I lay in my bed underneath the… Continue reading A jar full of cookies and life.
The strokes of a brush on a blank canvas was the art that I lived for, I forsook sleep, food, and friends for this craft. I loved the colors that blended into forms and brought emotion to anonymous portraits. So in this, I drew everyday, I painted everyday, I studied art with such vigor that… Continue reading getting burned out of your passion