Life, Postaday, Writing

Difference of Being.

Sometimes I don't like to write and I do it anyway. I struggle to write and I try to fill the pages of my journal and I hate myself. Why am I doing this when I don't want to write? Every word I put down feels insincere, an extraction with nothing to numb the process.… Continue reading Difference of Being.

Life, Postaday


We take many things for granted here in the twenty-first century. This is a redundant statement and probably a thought that is common sense, but how often do you actually sit down and think about how much we take for granted? Cars can take us somewhere in thirty minutes when a hundred years ago it… Continue reading Convenience

Life, Postaday, Writing

The Barrier of Thoughts

I think the biggest barrier that stops people from full honesty in their private writing is the fear that others will read what they've said without knowledge or permission. To know that others could see their innermost thoughts without them knowledge is the scariest thing in the entire world. We often lament on our limited… Continue reading The Barrier of Thoughts

Life, Postaday

Another Day

A woman was complaining about some people we know mutually. This is my response: "I just focus on my attitude and the people that I work with." "Isn't it hard sometimes?" "Sometimes, but tomorrow's another day." "Well, aren't you a ball of sunshine?" I can't allow myself the worry of someone else's actions. When I… Continue reading Another Day

Poetry, Postaday

The Reasoning

This is the reasoning of the ages: that others' opinions don't matter unless they share the sentiments together. A crumb of difference, however slight, will push the hearer towards a world war more devastating than previous experiences. Shades of gray is long forgotten, the only matters are black and white, it seems absurd to state… Continue reading The Reasoning

Poetry, Postaday, Writing

Steps I Take.

The memory of going away alone, the tentative steps towards the sky. The oceans rise to meet the heaven, splattered with colors that don't seem to match, yet meld together into something picturesque. It swallows me whole, unaware of it happening in the focus of the distant objects. I'm last in the swells, the rise… Continue reading Steps I Take.