Gat Andres, Sorry

If he had been alive now, what would he say? Would he be proud? Would he be angry? Devastated at what we have become? Would he call this freedom? Or are we still miles away from it? At the very least we know who we are. But do we, really? 

Gat Andres, I’m sorry. It’s your 153rd birthday.

You died at the age of 33. Noone even knows how and where you died. Noone but you and your executioners. Noone even knows where your body is buried. 

Gat Andres, I’m sorry. 

I know you love this country. 

If you were alive today, you’d still die for us despite everything. 

You are a patriot unlike most of us.

And for that, I say sorry. 

Conversations With You

Every conversation with you is a conversation I willingly replay even when I no longer remember the words; just your laughter… even when I no longer hear your voice and yet I vividly see your hunched back and your gorgeous smile; even when all that you do is sit beside me, fiddling with your phone and I try to think of topics but the moment I find one, you speak. Every conversation with you is worth repeating no matter the consequences. I forget my father is waiting for me, feet away from where we are sitting together. The dialogue has become so engaging it’s a shame to break it with ‘goodbye.’ I cover you with my back so the professor we don’t like won’t see you. I wait until dead air, as rare as it comes, come and I say I have to go. Every conversation with you is bliss. A blissful temporary satisfaction, for the both of us, it seems. A welcome distraction from both our mundane lives, at best. I hear your voice now that I am writing this. But the words aren’t there. I see your smile and that crooked back, slouched beside me. 

When will we talk again? 

Soon. I hope. 

Every conversation with you is a conversation I look forward to. 

“1 and two zeroes after”

There is no easy way to say this so I will be quick! Haha.

Today marks my 100th day of blogging and this is my 300th post! This calls for a celebration. Pop the champagne!


August 18, of this year, I published my first post in this welcoming community, WordPress, Their Wait  It is a short fanfiction story centered on characters from my favorite fandom, Harry Potter.
A lot of things happened since then. I’ve met new people. Bonded with some of them, (twitter and late night convos count right?) and of course, in my first one hundred days of this wordy adventure, I learned.


I guess you could say that I started this blog to escape my reality but somewhere along the way, I realized, as I was making this  that this became my reality. But I didn’t want my posts to be mostly like how others share their lives. Videos, vlogs, and cheesy narrations. I have always been a poet,  and I think that life in itself is a poem. Hence, the tagline, living life poetically.


The very first follower! (Deniz Yalim)

To start off. Ain’t that grand? From the very first one. Now here we are…. MANY. More than one is …. MANY!

The very first commenter! (Commenters?)


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The very first person to recommend me good stuff! (

She was kind enough to recommend a book on poetry and I couldn’t be more happier. A lot of you guys have commented about books and great films too, most of them already checked out and watched… and blogged about. Others, still on my TBR list. Haha.

The very first person who nominated me for an award! (


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I have garnered awards and ever since receiving my very first one from Man  a series of them came flooding after and I couldn’t be more thankful! The amount of recognition I am getting is not what I’m after, after all, but I am always very much grateful to those who notice my rants, ehem, chocolates, and award me for them. Haha! I do not know what I might write about in the future, but I do know that they  will be an amalgam of flavours.

The very first person to feature me in her blog site! (

This person is just amazing. I never knew one could feature other bloggers, until she emailed me! The response rate since then spiked and I’m happy she still sticks around up until now. Despite my recent melancholic writings. Haha.

The very first person who invited me to write for another site about my love for films! (

This dude is actually an angel. He saw my post on Kubo and the two strings and invited me to write on his site! He is not only kind, and very accommodating, but he really takes time to answer even my most trivial questions. I have not posted new stuff there yet, but for any of y’all still keen on reading my views on certain films, further posts will also be uploaded here so no worries, okay?


I scoured through my 299 posts and I laughed at how many my grammatical errors were. Hmmm? And nobody noticed? Or nobody even bothered to tell me? Hah! Well, that is not the issue though. I laughed at how, over the past few days, I have been so keen on writing and writing without even taking the time to review and reread my posts before publishing them. My posts became my drafts, simply put. And as I read and reread them, I somehow realized my consistencies, inconsistencies at times, and even my redundant words. LoL. I do not really know whether that is a good sign or not. All I know is, I am having a blast and I am liking every moment with this amazing community. I prefer it this way, though. Not having to think too much and just write whatever comes mind. Free flow writing. It is also mainly the reason why I get so ecstatic when someone likes my posts. They’re just rants that rhyme! Thanks, though. I hope you do read it and not just like everything. *smiles* I also noticed how swift my changes in perspective are. Haha. More than once, I have written consecutively, about happiness and sadness – in that order, sometimes in the eyes of the victim, and sometimes from the viewpoint of the cause of the pain. I never actually thought I could write like this. I have always contented myself with writing like how most of my peers do, “like how we see it in television”, but reading amazing blogs from amazing people has really helped me,I guess. Everyday, I get new ideas just from lines from different blogs and I jot them down. Everyday; sad, happy, frustrated, depressed, angry, I write (sometimes they take a while to get uploaded; phone bill issues.) Writing. Good writing is innate. Great writing isn’t. We are all creative, the artists are the ones who survive, as a fellow blogger so cleverly put it and I couldn’t agree more.


Whatever happened to the person I wrote most of my poems about? He knows this exists. I told him. Surprisingly, he likes it. Heh. He better. OR ELSE. It is too soon to tell whether I’d be over him, but I know I’m getting there. Contrary to public belief, my descent to madness came before the creation of this site. What I write, and will write (about him and us, particularly) are figments of my memories and reopened wounds. I learned, that sharing is not that bad, really. Keeping it in and choosing to hide from the fact that we are nothing more than friends now, is. So, to him, he can also celebrate my 100th day, if he wishes.


Over the past 100 days, I talked about my lies. I talked about the films I have watched. I talked about the movies I love. I also talked about what I feel about happens in my country. History, politics, and friendship. Why Ronald Weasley is my favorite fictional character. These and a whole lot more. I have a lot to share to a whole bunch of strangers and to the others I have started to know already. It was a great 100 day journey and I’ll be eating this ice cream, cheering and hoping for another hundred or so, more. And here’s to more people who will relate to the awesome weirdness and to the few brave souls willing to taste my chocolates! *pops confetti*