On writing

I have always wanted to write. I have always had stories and concepts and themes in my mind but I never got to put them into words. I have tried to start to write a story before, but I never finished it. Them. I was rolling stone. I am still a rolling stone. I gather no moss. I finish nothing. Even as I write this blog, there are minutes when I have to stop and stare at the computer and squeeze my brain for the words to come out, for the thoughts to be released. I know I have something to say, I know I am thinking of something but I just cannot find the words. But I want to write. I want to make all the thoughts in my tangible, or make that, readable. I need to release the thoughts in my mind, channel them so they do not settle inside my head and eventually block the other things I need to understand.

And so I created this page and I hope I can maintain it. It is not easy to find someone who I can talk to anyway, so might as well release it all through written words.


There’s a fine line between overanalyzing and knowing the plain truth.

Sometimes, waiting is a consequence.

Even with the crazy rain, that wet glistening grass in it is still beautiful.

Knowing how something went wrong and doing nothing about it does not solve the problem.

When you receive an unpleasant news, unless it involves life and death, 1-2 days of moping about it should be enough. After you’re done cursing the world about it, take all the lesson you can get and move on.

When you ask someone something, make sure you are genuinely interested about hearing about it. Because when the person actually responds, trust is given along with the answer.

I do not understand the people who can be compelling and ungrateful at the same time.

A threat of losing something or someone should be enough for us to realise how important they are and that we need to do something to keep them from going away.