From Mother to Daughter

You can never forget me
The memory of my maiden love
Shall haunt you till the end of time
Every young flower, every new dawn
Will always remind you of me

The language of my eyes
Shall hover above every neon light
Every star-twinkle, every candle flame
It shall always longingly linger
In the after-glow of the setting sun

The prayer of my heart
Shall pervade every evening breeze
It shall drown out the murmurings
Of other hearts, the songs of
Other lips, I shall ever forever echo
In your mind

My mother wrote this poem when she was around my age. She wanted to pursue Journalism, but studied Economics instead. While reading through a notebook full of her own poems, I realized that she still took the time to do what she really wanted to do while doing what she had to do.

I admire a lot of women, and wish that I would look like them, sound like them, and be like them. But the woman that I admire the most is my mother.

I Spy With My Little Eye

Today I’m going to share something I wrote in my old notebook back in 2001. I had a phase wherein I was obsessed with spies and detectives, so I pretended to be both. It all started when I watched the movie Harriet the Spy. Although my entries then were harmless enough, my game of spying and observing unsuspecting neighbors could have easily developed into something creepy. Looking back now, I’m very thankful that I did not become a stalker (or did I? JUST KIDDING!).

Here is an excerpt from my ‘spy’ notebook:

I've solved the mystery, but I’m really curious to know why the small, flat, thin, and orange storybook was in my auntie’s room! I guess I didn’t find it odd during that time.

I’m not trying to willingly humiliate myself nor am I thinking that what I have written were golden. It’s just a funny way for me to look back on how much I have changed as a writer.

Writing For Writing's Sake

Confucius once said, "Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life."

I love to write ever since I can remember. I enjoy leisure writing, but now I mostly do it for work. I decided to create a blog to revive my inner wordsmith; the one who writes not only because she needs to pay the bills, but also to pour out her thoughts.

Don't get me wrong, I value my job. I know how hard it is to find work that is both convenient and challenging (if you know what I mean). I just feel that I need an outlet, wherein I can write without worrying about deadlines or revisions. A place in cyberspace in which I can be me.

Having said that, I have to warn people who might stumble upon this blog that it will be full of rants and raves about life in general. Don't say that you have not been warned.