Fork

A fork represents a diversion from a set path; once you go down one path, you can never experience the other path in the same way that you would have if you took it at that moment. Life is complicated by many things, but most of them arise from the need to choose just one path or make one decision. I hate forks.

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A response to the Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt: Secret

I keep secrets from everyone. My parents and relatives don’t know everything. My friends think they know much, but they’ve only barely scratched the surface. At this point, I still surprise people- even myself. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know myself. I guess it’s still pretty acceptable since I am only beginning to see my life about to become a reality. One day, I hope I find that person who will take me in completely, secrets, flaws and all. I will find him, and he will know me. #

A response to this daily prompt.

 

A Comeback Attempt

This is an attempt to go back to writing. It has been way too long. I have had too many excuses: schoolwork, internship, and relationships among others. Lately, I discovered that I can’t write with as much passion as I used to and write about the things I care about as fast as I once could. I found myself stumbling over forgotten words and phrases, and looking up words that were once familiar. I fear that if I don’t start writing again, one day I might wake up and find myself unable to. So I’m starting now. Maybe the next few posts will be rubbish, maybe they won’t make sense to anyone but at least they’ll make sense to me. I don’t want to make excuses anymore; I’m tired of hearing myself complain. Cheers to this new beginning!

What Happened at the Mill? [Weekly Writing Challenge: The Setting’s the Thing]

Today, we challenge you to create a compelling setting for your story.

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There were many theories as to what happened to Erik inside the rundown mill in the outskirts of the quaint little town on the island in the middle of Lake Isu, but the theories seemed to contrast with everything I saw when I came down there to investigate. The town was small, and when I say that I mean it’s really small. The houses are painted in dull colors like brown and gray; they are huddled so close together like sardines in a can, and a couple can barely argue about anything before the next door neighbors decide to come over and see what’s wrong. It seemed odd that such kinds of people living in a town so archaic-they still had working primitive hand pumps for drawing water from like, the past centuries-would miss the presence of an archaeologist roaming around the narrow dirt roads with his tool belt, eating in the lone diner with the red and white tiles, and talking to local folk of the town’s history.

I decided to head to the abandoned water mill where Erik was found lying in a pool of dried blood. I paused at the doorway, expecting it to be full of cobwebs and such, but it was fairly okay. Traces of the blood were still left on the creaky hardwood floor, and the scent hung in the air like none of it was ever wiped away. I looked up and saw that half the roof had already given way, and I saw the rising moon look down at me. I continued to observe the surroundings. The wheel on one side of the mill was already in pitiful condition, and the mayor said it has been abandoned for almost twenty years. The lake had shrunk for the water no longer flowed in and out, and mosquitoes breed in the green, moss-filled water. Some of the beams inside the structure are no longer stable. Erik would never have come out here for any reason. The floorboards creaked, though I was not moving.

 

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I had fun with this week’s challenge. It’s been so long since I worked on one. It’s not as elaborate as I want it, but I can still work on that.

Weekly Photo Challenge: On the Move

I have always been in love with traveling. Even at my current age, I have accumulated many pictures of me and my family going around everywhere, especially in domestic destinations here in the Philippines. Here are some photos showing “on the move”.

 

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This is the boat we rode going to Guimaras in 2012.

 

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That’s my mom driving us to Subic also in 2012.

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This is a large truck carrying sugarcane which we encountered in Bukidnon last year.

And this is the kalesa ride we took in Vigan just last April.

Any photos “on the move”?

Check out this week’s photo challenge here.