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1,2,3

When people started to count all the wrongs you’ve done, your world will start to become small. You too may count them all. Then they will be countless like the stars and the sand and you will never see the good in you. No, you should not torture yourself with that. Be a deaf.  So when they count, you will not hear them. Remember, everyone is work in progress. Yes, it is not an excuse but you’ve got to acknowledge that so you will not be too hard on yourself.  It’s okay. Everyone failed at one point in their lives. And so can you. Now, stop counting them but start reviewing them and know what to improve on you.

DescriptiveParagraph · FlashFiction

Home

I want to stay in a place for years. I want to call it “home”. I want to say, it’s where I belong. It might not be a geographical location, but maybe a heart of a person whom I will love forever. Who could it be? I’ve been waiting for 27 years. I will be here or maybe there still sojourning until I see you face to face. Until then, my love. I will be waiting.

DescriptiveParagraph · FlashFiction · Poetry

Quiet Time

She went to the field with her journal and pen. She sat on the grass and started writing…

The shadows may hunt me,
but they can never stop me.
Dried wounds, they may reopen.
But they will eventually heal.

She breathed deeply and felt the wind touch every inch of her. It’s the kind of writing moment she always looked for, being in a quiet place and the wind blows.

DescriptiveParagraph · FlashFiction

He Was a Teacher

The playing kids in the corridor, the noisy children in the classroom, the messy chairs, the blanks in the attendance sheet, the repetitive sound of the computer keyboard, the loud sound of the bell and the other things to be observed in the school will always be remembered by him. School was his favorite place. Despite the fact that he is an introvert and he enjoys peace, he will never forget the beautiful chaos in the school. He was once there to be a channel of learning and surprisingly he also learned from the subject matter to one’s life experiences. He has regrets for leaving but he has to go. There were other plans in his mind that he has to pursue while he is still young. “I will be back.” He said as he closed the gate of the school.

DescriptiveParagraph · Personal

I Don’t Want to Write about You

Despite your genuineness, I don’t want to write about you. It feels like the whole world will know and it will be jinxed after all. 

I don’t want them to know your best qualities: your sweet smiles, bright eyes, and warm hands, and your sincere ‘how are you’, intentional look, listening ears, and hearty laughs. Now, tell me how can I resist not to write about you, when you are worth writing for. The whole world should know that there is still someone real, someone who can flatter one’s heart as you. 

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Whole And Complete

She was so tired of doubting herself because she was given an idea that she wouldn’t amount to anything. She wants to hear things differently now. She wants to know how important and how much she was appreciated. It was her little drama. She said, she’s enough of all the emotional things but this really made her cry. She hopes to be whole and complete again. And she definitely knows where to find it…

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Strength of a Father

He was so devastated. He locked himself to the room. He kept on wiping the waters falling from his eyes.  He was deeply hurt. But a knock on the door disturbed his privacy. A little voice said, “Papa?” As he heard it, he wiped the tears in his eyes, and straightened his shirt.

I need to be strong. My two little girls need me. Oh, God help me.

Then he opened the door and smiled, “Hello Angels, how are you?” “We’re now fine.” The eldest answered. “Teacher said mama is now happy in heaven. We are happy too.” The two girls smiled innocently as they hug their father.

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She Might be You

SHE’S LIMITED TOO. She knows not everything. She cannot do everything. But hey, she’s trying. And when she’s demotivated, she cries at night but still gets up in the morning. She’s trying because when she looks at you she knows she’s needed. And she’ll stay as long as she can. But please when you see her limits, don’t push her to the edge rather pull her near you and remind her of the good things, encourage her with hopes and dreams and appreciate her existence.

DescriptiveParagraph · FlashFiction · HOME

Missing Him

I missed him so much. I missed seeing him in the morning, cooking our favorite breakfast. I missed sitting beside him in the afternoon while watching a TV series. I missed taking pictures with him and see him smile. I missed lying beside him, doing nothing. I missed talking to him at night about anything and everything. I missed sleeping beside him, while hugging him so tight. I missed his gestures, facial expressions, hugs, and kisses. I missed everything about him. I want him back. I just don’t know how to retrieve him from the soil. I loved and will always love him until the end of time.

DescriptiveParagraph · FlashFiction

Change

I remember loving to observe you from the features of your face and to how you looked at me. Little did I know that as much as it gives me joy, it gives me pain too.

Your features, they’re handsome as ever. You have these thick eyebrows, and pointed nose. Oh, I adore that nose. I love pinching it. You also have those thin lines of lips that I used to kiss, and small eyes which were used to look at me intently. Those were your features I always enjoy to look at each and every time.

And I remember it clearly how you looked at me. Once, you held my face, tucked my hair on my ear then trace your fingers in every single part of my face while your eyes, they focus on me like they want to tell me I am special, that you will be always there, and that I am beautiful despite my imperfections.

But then, I saw you last time, you barely looked at me. Your eyes aren’t the same. They changed. What I saw was indifference. It pains me to see that but I guess those were the indication that maybe just maybe, you are no longer happy with me.

DescriptiveParagraph · HOME

Slowing Down

I was walking on the road alone. I heard the sound of the horns, the cars’ engines, the blowing wind, the playing songs in the street and the people talking. I smelled the different perfumes of the people passing by, and the flowers being sold on the flower shop. I saw the different situations in my surroundings, the bright lights of each post in every street and the glow brought by the moon and the stars. I felt the harsh wind touching my skin and the water dropping from the sky. And I realized I want to take things slow. I want to stretch out the time and observe even the littlest things. I want to hear, feel, smell and see everything and be thankful for them. I want to see more in this life than just doing my day job and be satisfied with its pay. I want to feel more and know that flowing emotions are not just the only available things to feel. I want to hear and acknowledge that it’s not just the sentiments of this world are offered to be heard. There were simple things to appreciate. Life is beautiful; if only we give chance to pay attention to them. There’s more to life than sentiments and negativity. All we need to do is to be intentional in witnessing the life beyond ourselves.

DescriptiveParagraph · HOME · Personal

Fan Girl

She loves how his curly hair is a little in chaos, how his eyes crease, how his wrinkles and dimples show as he smiles, and how his lips curve into a smile. She also loves his voice, the melody that has always been resounding in her head. At the thought of him makes her giddy. He’s that always appealing and handsome in her eyes. His name is Nicco Manalo.

(Credits to the owner of the photo)
(Description written by yours truly)