For the first time in years, I actually feel happy. It's free-fall all over again and I'm not going to hold anything back nor let anything do the holding back for me. Come as you are, I'm an open book with blank pages waiting for my master's sweet, spine-bending attention ( Read more... )

In less than two weeks, I bought a little more than ten books

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
Hamlet by William Shakespeare
Death in Venice and Other Stories by Thomas Mann
Mrs Dalloway by Virgina Woolf
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch
Things Fall Apart by Chinua ( Read more... )

My mother never fell out of love with my father. She's kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met. In order to do this, she's turned life away. Sometimes she subsists for days on water and air. Being the only known complex life-form to do this, she should have a species named after her. Once Uncle Julian told me how the sculptor ( Read more... )

Pretty much all of my attempts at resuscitating the life with letters and words I lived in the past have all been in vain. I haven't written a single word for the past four months (and that's to exclude the fact that I haven't so much as written a journal entry for the past six months nor a decent string of entries with any form of consistency and ( Read more... )

I haven't posted on here in such a long time and I figured recently that there won't be any suitable time for me to make a nice comeback entry. I've spent a lot of time writing papers for school for the past six months and another blank page to fill up won't exactly hit me as stimulating. Then again, I'm not exactly certain if that's just me trying ( Read more... )

There is adventure in anonymity, that subtle feat of blending with the monotonous crowd like a speck of salt lost in an ocean of indifference, its path determined only by the course of the tides that engulf it. I know how it is to float among them, to conceal my phantom self in an eighteen-year-old boy’s body, camouflaging as one of their kind; but ( Read more... )

in four more hours, summer will be officially over and the new school year will start. taking things in stride, i resolved months ago to miss this year's summer semester even if it means i'd be slacking on units that i'm supposed to have taken by now. that is, i assumed the entire summer would be devoted to something more worthwhile than learning ( Read more... )

no updates lately. busy.

Reading List at the moment
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë (almost done!)
Either/Or: A Fragment of Life by Søren Kierkegaard (just started with this one)
East of Eden by John Steinbeck (lost somewhere in the middle of the book)

Coming Soon - bought the copies but had to hide them so I won't feel the urge to start a new one ( Read more... )

yesterday was grade-distribution day and i got to school late enough to miss out on five out of six course cards. it bugged me so much that i made an enormous effort of dragging my butt up to school only to find out that i'd be bringing home only a tenth of the bacon-and uncooked at that; but as with everything in this world, any inconvenience can ( Read more... )

despite incessant admonitions, both from myself and from other people, to limit my intake of any caffeine-filled drinks, i find myself time and again vacillating from actualizing this resolution.

school is over: the prospect of yet another set of school-related work is more than a month away so that doesn't leave me much activity (school-related ( Read more... )