Ordinary Universe

​Her mind is
Nothing but a wonderful blessing
Always yearning
Always growing

And here I am
But a blunt feather
Blown away by her endless wind
I float along the hush of her whisper
Enchanted
Of how grand of an angel she is
Eternally too big
And too much
To fit in
Our ordinary universe.

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The Struggle is Real: Translating Tagalog to English

Being bilingual is undeliably fun, as I can communicate with whoever in the world I want, and quite a battle too in terms of matching more appropriate words that counterpart what I’m trying to say. In a dreamy state I love poetry—those elegant use of metaphors and how it rouses the most delicate of human emotion. Oooh, what a beauty! But in everyday life I’ve known myself as sharp, direct to the point, and I don’t always have a sweet word to explain what exactly my thoughts and feelings are. It takes more time for me to sugarcoat everything I have to say in order to seem nicer and avoid argument or misunderstanding.
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Weekend Musings: When It Turns Upside Down, What Now?

 

Ever felt that life is showering you millions of tricky situations in a single day just to test how strongly you can stand and whether or not you will realize that giving up is the only choice left? This happens to me at least every three months or so, in return I would just shrug off and laugh at the end of the day. Who are you kidding, life?! I would shrug off and laugh because the truth is I have no clue for certain how to make things work, except probably let the days pass with me doing whatever is needed to be done.

Danica, what the heck are you blabbing about?

I’m talking about responsibilities came unannounced I did not ask for pile up in my room—too much of them to be handled within 24 hours. I want to come clean, though, this is not going to be a post ranting about the things I hate. I am going to praise life and how wonderful it gets whenever it puts me in situations where I can step up my work as a senior student and soon-to-be dipping my toe soul into the real world.

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Does anybody still read this blog?

Does anybody still read this blog?

The answer would probably be no. Because I don’t even post stuff anymore! In all honestly I feel shy about posting anything lately with the slight scare of whether or not I’ll terrify those subscribed to me through email when they find something familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time, visit their inbox. But whatever, I’m doing this anyway.

First though I wanted to greet everybody a very Happy New Year! I hope you, lovely reader, a great year ahead and this may spark an incredible inspiration to fulfill whatever you wish. My greeting may be a few days late, I know, but today also marks the second founding year of this little blog! I wish I could still post as often as I did before, I wouldn’t promise to post more often either, not that it’s something not included in my blogging resolution because I don’t have one. As always, life gets in the way. Ew. Some of you may find this reasoning absurd absurd irrational or just plain dumb, and believe me, I could imagine some eyebrows raising too. But 2015 had been a tough year for me. No, this time I wouldn’t rehash how and why it happened to be that way.

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The Power of Reading and Writing

It’s November. I didn’t end October with a bang, certainly not beginning November with fireworks. I still have a ship-load of tasks to do and will surely catch deadlines one after another in the upcoming weeks. I am a graduating student this academic year, though I’m not sure yet how my grades will come out by the end of semester, but already I’m claiming it, (just to attract positive energy) I AM GRADUATING. (!!!)

I did not expect how hectic my schedules have been in the past months. Like, looking back today, I’m asking myself how the heck did I survive those in one piece? And I realize that, indeed, life has a way of progressing itself—giving us mountain-top trials, confusions, what seems to be endless depression and anxiety—win or lose. Yet here I am, writing this blog post. Though I couldn’t tell right at this moment that I won. No, at least not yet, since our thesis proposal got dumped and our group still has to wake back from the dead.

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What Are You Afraid Of?

A writer always has something to say. Hurricanes of thoughts and distorted letters whirl the minds every tick of the clock. It devastates wholeness resulting to displacement of souls, cracking of skulls into million pieces. But this is what a writer aims and lives for. Voices that kept screaming and kicking at senses needed artistic strokes of pen against the smooth divine paper is the sole ecstasy a writer hungers for. But what seemed to be the heavenly process of filling the void can build the highest grounds shielding from this train of thought, putting halt to the only voice a writer could write, shutting off the luminance of life. This is the ultimate time of silence, this is what I am afraid of.

 [image courtesy of huffington post]