Remember this day, when your limbs crumpled under the weight of his memory. Forming dark alleys and forlorn rivers. Twisted in their own reality.

Remember this day, when your eyes were surrounded and sunken, drained out of life. Vacuous, it couldn’t hide the pain unlike your smile.

Remember this day, when you imagined writing letters that will never be sent. Protecting truths that will never be known. Threatening to withstand the test of time.

Remember this day, when even sleep was robbed from you. Left with sporadic episodes. Leaving you awake treacherously in the middle of the night.

Remember this day, when the sun sets with all your happiness. And it rises without taking away any of your sadness.

Remember this day, when you cried alone.

One day you’ll be okay, and you’ll remember this day.




Sometimes, I see beautiful things. So beautiful that my grip on my camera strengthens as I raise it to my eye level. But when the moment captures my heart more than my eye, I somehow always find myself bringing that camera down. Because those imageries are always beautiful for how they make me feel rather than for how they look. And no amount of composition or camera build is capable of capturing that.

Though photographs tell a lot, this is the reason why the best imageries can only be found in a person.


The pain rendered me immobile. It was irreconcilable with every reason I came up with before I reached this decision. I find myself in this state again – of having to flush out tears several times a day just to feel marginally better nothing. I hate myself for letting my heart take me through this. “You useless little piece of shit”, I almost want to say. But it stares back at me helpless and now lacking of any spirit, with pleading eyes that say “I did what I felt was right”. As always. Yet the the realization that I may have lacked the wisdom I thought I had in the first place leaves me in a bind – I end up pointing to nothing and no one. I have no energy to figure out what to blame.

It hurts profoundly. It hurts in places I thought I had built enough immunity. My own strength and resolve threatens to destroy me. Here I was again – broken on a pavement of dreams. Waiting for but myself to put it back together again. But I loved and that’s all I want to matter.