Monday, January 9, 2017


December has always been a favorite month of Anna's.

Anna found the solemnity that the winter offered as endearing. What else is more beautiful than walking down the streets covered by blankets of pearl white snow, having the privilege to feel the cold breeze dancing against her skin, being given the ability to draw in the precious stale zephyr that's going through the lining of her trachea, making its way into the never ending and continuously expanding and shrinking pair of lungs, and be able to heave it deeply, blowing it out into shape of O's, while her staring at it in wonder and excitement.

It was truly a form of euphoria for Anna.

She was now snuggled against the cushions of her sofa, with herself facing the window, feasting her eyes with the view of the falling snowflakes outside. Rather than feeling euphoric over being given the privilege to enjoy the beauty outside like always, she could feel solemnity and dullness blanketing her, together with the coldness of her living room that is so profound that it's made its presence already in her bones.

She stared at the parcel in her hands, never once her eyes left it. Slowly and carefully, she opened it and as she scanned the contents of it, immediately her eyes were clouded with tears and soon enough, the tears brimming were already making their way down on her sunken cheeks.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

The Time We Talked About Attachments

You don't have answers to a lot of your demands.

Do you take it as a demand?

To want, to hope is a demand isn't it?

To want is but a selfish desire. Often construed by one's insatiable lust. Often illusioned in clouds of reasoning and logics, embezzled by words and phrases.