She was eight when she learned that nothing good ever came out of eavesdropping.
Constrained by the pressures of life and learning, I feel as if I have no time at all to write. Shackled to my responsibilities, tethered by my moral belief that I have to do my responsibilities, I cannot write.
“i don’t like them
they’re all i seem to make”
I wrote this poem while I was eating out alone. The seat across me was empty, and I felt a lack, somehow.
“Awaken, Sleeper” is a poem that serves as a warning to those who are asleep, to the non-believing, unenlightened souls of this world. It is also a heavy warning to those of us who are already awake, because I believe we are in the last of our days. Dearly Beloved: we must keep watch; and to those still sleeping: awake!
An essay about Montaño sardines. Because why not?
Who you are and how busy you are should not be an impediment to your honoring God. We can honor God even while we do our laundry.
Today, while I was grocery shopping, I saw an old man buying his own.
7 APR 18. Rain. It’s raining, and it’s beautiful. I’m driving down the streets of my hometown, and the neon signs were glowing like fairy lights. Blurred by the raindrops and the glass, they seemed to shimmer. Dipolog looked unreal at that moment, and I wanted to remember it that way forever.
Around two thousand years ago, Jesus Christ, God incarnate, was born. The specific date is now lost in time— the casualty of an archaic calendar system. Suffice to say, around the coldest point of the year, a boy was born in a manger. They named him Emmanuel: “God with us.” I wonder what it was […]