Fragments of the Quiet Mind

Sa panahon ngayon, dito sa tinatawag na digital era, online games have evolved into a vast virtual playground where people from around the world come together to revel in the thrill of play. Here, we transform into warriors, wizards, archers, or perhaps just that one player persistently hoping to join the party (or yung player na nanlilimos ng zenny sa tabi tabi) . Our screens come alive with epic battles and pixelated victories, and we bask in the fleeting glory of our digital conquests. These games provide more than mere entertainment; they are arenas for connection, creativity, and personal growth. However, as the stakes of online competition escalate, a troubling aspect often surfaces: toxic competitiveness that threatens to overshadow the very essence of enjoyment. In this digital playground, where avatars clash and virtual worlds are conquered, we sometimes forget a fundamental truth: games are meant to be fun, not battlegrounds for wounded egos. As we immerse ourselves in these ...

As I ran in this cold early morning with the wind flowing through my hair, the mist and the sweat mixing together in a health hazardous unity (pneumonia). The sun isn’t up yet and I can still see the dark sky filled with stars, I am left dumbfounded with a realization as I was staring at the universe above me. My dreams are so ‘ostentatious’ and ‘grand’, or so I thought but those dreams mean everything to me… perhaps, I look at things based on my subjective egocentric perspective and that it’s actually not me staring at the universe, but the universe enveloping my consciousness, pulling me closer to it’s majestic grandeur and vast oceanic mystery. It’s more logical to say that the universe is the one staring at me. I am just a tiny and insignificant creature whose dreams aren't as magnificent as I thought they were. I mean, I don’t matter to the universe, who am I to be noticed by it? I feel like an ant… struggling to be noticed, struggling to exist. or worse, i am an ...

Ito siguro ang tanging bagay na ayaw ko tuwing Disyembre. Kung di man reunion ng batchmates, reunion naman ng pamilya ni misis ang magaganap. Every 3 years nagkakaroon ng grand reunion ang kanyang mga relatives at sa tuwing ito’y mangyayari, atubili ang lahat ng tao sa pagbili ng mamahaling damit na isusuot, make up dito at doon na parang kasal ang pupuntahan. Ito ang panahong magsisiuwian mula sa iba’t ibang bansa ang mga sosyalerang titos at titas – na sa pag uwi, wala naman talagang pinag uusapan kundi kung gaano sila mas naka aangat sa inyo. Ganoon naman yata talaga, ang sistema ng pagtingin sa kagalingan ng isang tao ay nababase sa dami ng digits sa iyong payslip. Sa malas nga lang, mas madami pa ang digits ng loan ko kesa sa income, at syang dahilan kung bakit ako’y isa lamang langgam sa paningin nila. (o di kaya, pulgas) Ang sukatan ay wala sa abilidad. Oo, sabihin na nating artist ka, writer, poet, musikero, subalit ano bang kwenta nito sa kanila? Ang mahalaga ay kung mama...

To seek belonging is to find yourself naked in the gaze of others, exposed not in your strength, but in your fragility. It is not the comfortable proximity of others that makes us feel connected, but the shared weight of our suffering. This is the irony of human existence—our need to belong can only be truly fulfilled when we allow ourselves to belong to our deepest wounds. Only in the acknowledgment of these scars, in the rawness of their truth, do we find the soft soil in which connection can root. It’s not the polished moments of joy that knit us together, but the fractured edges of sorrow, vulnerability, and brokenness. The kind of intimacy we yearn for—real, deep, enduring—emerges only when we stand in the darkness of our pain, not pretending to be whole, but embracing the cracks and fissures that make us who we are. But suffering is no easy companion. It doesn't offer comfort or quick relief. It pulls you into itself like a void, asking you to surrender pieces of yourself un...

Life often feels like a tragic comedy, a paradox we seem to accept but never fully understand. In our quest for connection, we find that the closer we reach, the more elusive our relationships become. The more I strive to uncover the depths of those I care about, the more enigmatic they seem. The essence of this challenge is not merely in solving a puzzle but in understanding the mysterious nature of human connections. Each piece of information about another person becomes a fragment of a larger mystery. When faced with such complexity, the pursuit is not about solving but about embracing the enigma and learning from it. This quest for understanding highlights a profound aspect of relationships: the balance between patience and persistence.  As I navigate these complexities, I am reminded that true understanding requires time and respect for the other’s pace.  It is not about forcing clarity but allowing it to unfold organically. Reflecting on this journey, I realize that my a...

The day creeps in before the world has fully exhaled its night, suspended in that fragile breath between darkness and light—where dawn is not a promise but a question carved from silence. To rise before the sun is to challenge inertia itself, a quiet rebellion against time’s slow erasure. Every morning is a gamble with oblivion. Here, the mundane is not mere habit but a sacred ritual—each motion a stitch in the fragile fabric of being. The boiling water hisses its impatience, caught between warmth and rupture, comfort and confrontation. It is the human condition— torn between the safety of the known and the terror of becoming. To engage with the world is to stand on the razor’s edge of vulnerability, to carry the weight of endless possibility in a single breath. Sunrise bleeds crimson and blue across the sky, a daily fresco of impermanence. Nothing holds still; even light is a restless traveler. What we see is always incomplete, an illusion crafted by shadows hiding truths just be...