Quarter Life Came Early

Some say you don't have to explain yourself to anyone... I beg to disagree because to get a piece of you, you have to give something of you...


Ive been secretly writing for quite sometime now... As I have been for a decade or so.

I remember putting them on my small pocket notebook writing poems about envy, about nature with methods of personification; toying with words just for the sake. I even dared to write a novel even without full knowledge about the technicalities of how to set the plot, how to establish the climax, and how to end it. I got frustrated when it got lost during my highschool days. I never found it... I lost my early memorabilia.

There was a lapse. A sudden break from passion. A silent protest.

College days, I started writing again even without effort; trigerred by intense emotions I can't even control. With my lowest comes a work so deep I never questioned. Saving them as a text message, writing it on a piece of paper; they became so volatile, they come and go.

Year 2005 was a revelation from an aftermath. Year 2005, month of April, after my birthday, was a time in one's life when a man has to hold tight to what's left. Year 2005 was when writing became an outlet to withstand a lingering pain and I challenged myself to document it this time.

A couple of years since, a collection of bits and pieces of me was formed. Mostly dark because of its root. Some would shed hope because there is no way but to strive for it.

I will continue to write whatever reasons I will have for doing so... I should never waste a gift.
When I'll be gone, myself will stay with these words.

Life is a cycle. Circumstances are but similar to all; only that we express them in a way it best represents ourselves. As for me, I choose words because they are powerful, and that power can translate into music which is my heart and soul.

Till the next Chapter...