Personal

In the fleeting beauty of cherry blossoms, I find solace and reflection. Their delicate petals, painted in hues of pink and white, whisper tales of splendor, reminding me of life's transient nature. How I adore cherry blossoms. Like the cherry blossoms, I've witnessed the passage of time, allowing countless opportunities to slip through my grasp. As these blossoms bloom and fade with the changing seasons, I can't help but ponder the moments I've let slip away — the dreams left unfulfilled, the connections left unexplored, and the chances left untaken. Yet, amidst these reflections, there's a certain grace in embracing ...
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The stories once brimming with excitement now lay dormant between us, overshadowed by the silence of our growing disconnect. It's a strange sensation, navigating the bittersweet terrain of a relationship outgrown. Fond memories flicker like distant stars in the night sky, illuminating the path we once walked together. Yet, as we traverse the present, our footsteps falter, unable to find common ground amidst the chasm of our evolving selves. There's no bitterness in this realization. Only a quiet acceptance of the ebb and flow of life's currents. We were once kindred spirits, bound by shared experiences and laughter. Now, like ...
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I am happy. Relationships with mine and Ander's friends are more tight-knit and mature than ever (and not just those friends everyone knows about). I have figured out people's true intentions and have cautioned myself away from the few toxic ones. I am closer than comfort ever to Ander's family and relatives, as he is with mine, that we even joke about switching families now. My freelance "job" is seriously raking it in within the past year, and I earn more than enough to cover all the bills, a few wants, and some — all while giving me the luxury ...
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The last weekend was probably one of the longest weekends (figuratively, of course) I have ever spent in my life. Ander and I arrived at the bunny's house at half past noon on Saturday. We've already been travelling 4 hours by then, and we're about to go on another 2-hour trip with her family and relatives to Nasugbu in a nearby province, which is known for its nice beaches. Ander and I are like extended extended extended members of her family, you see. I've been in a lot of family things with them. But this is not just another one ...
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I think I could probably write a book of all the weird things men do or love that make absolutely zero sense to me – farting under the covers, the attraction to girl-on-girl action, and naming body parts (just to name a few). But what has continued to blow my mind more than anything over the last several years is why men feel the need to hoot and holler things to women on the street. Why do they think it's socially acceptable to objectify and disrespect women in the guise of — what they think is a — compliment? I'll ...
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Paris (and Europe in general) has always been my dream. Love this quote on the Christmas card my cousin, who is now based in France, sent me: "Ajouter deux lettres à Paris: c'est le Paradis" ~Jules Renard Translated, it says: Add two letters to Paris: This is Paradis. Ate, I'll see you in Paris indeed ...
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