O v e r f l o w

In Psychology they say,
the glass will be half empty
or half full based on
how you see it,

on my way home
late last night,
I paused a minute
to look up
to the hundreds
of the stars I can see,
and the thousands more
I cannot see.

For some reasons
they reminded me
of the many things that stains
my heart with melancholy,
and the much more things
unknown to me
that should paint me happy.

So I choose
to start my journey
to discovering
each unchartered joys
life has hidden for me.

I’m sure the glass
will not only be full,
it
will
overflow.

02.25.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash

Happy Monday, everybody! 🙂

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Music Monday: Into The Deep

Your love is a flood and I’m
Caught in the current of Your living waters
It’s Your love, it’s Your love
Your presence is a flood
And I’m caught in the wonder
You have taken me over
You have won my heart

Citipointe Live, Into the Deep


Have a blessed week, beautiful souls!

I’ll be revealing a book news soon!

#IndianInsights No. 1

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Hello, everyone! I’ve been out and about for some good reasons. Work. Life. Birthday. and. Travel. Before my birthday month ended, I embarked into a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. A solo trip to India, my first out-of-the-country alone! And I would like to share with you my learnings and realizations via #IndianInsights series. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this, guys!

#IndianInsights No. 1: Bring an open mind. Leave beliefs behind.

Whenever I mention my India trip, people will warn me about two things aside from rape: dirt and stink. The basis? Shared personal anecdotes and travel videos.

Dirt is fine. Manila isn’t as clean as Singapore. But stink is a different story. So I flew ready with Vicks inhaler and a little bottle of oil from my former bossy. Better be ready than sorry. 😁

The moment I got in the plane from Kuala Lumpur to Kolkata, I braced myself and started sniffing (which I’m so good at). They said the flight will be a nice introduction to India’s smell. Thankfully, there is none. Yet.

When my plane landed, when I came out of the airport, when I got in a taxi, when I entered the train which will take me from Kolkata to NJP, my sniffing was in full mode. My hand, ready to grab the oil anytime. To my surprise, a single drop wasn’t necessary.

Yes, Kolkata is not so clean, but it isn’t stinky as it is believed to be.

There is nothing wrong in coming ready. In believing stories. In researching about a new place. But I’ve learned an open mind is more than essential. You’ll never know how a country, a place, a human heart can surprise you.

Like how I thought I can only see a cherry blossom tree in Japan and in South Korea. Then I stumbled upon this lone Himalayan cherry blossom. (Some research says cherry blossoms are originally from the Himalayas. 😊)

What a beautiful surprise, isn’t it? 😊

Endings and Beginnings (2017 Edition)

Oh, what a rollercoaster you have been, 2017?

The leaves of this year’s calendar is all but gone. With Sara Bareilles “December” playing on my background, with the lyrics:

Distill a whole year down into a day
Act like we all start over with a pristine slate
But to get yourself a new life you’ve got to give the other one away
And I’m starting to believe in the power of a name
‘Cause it can’t be a mistake if I just call it change

let me try to write about this crazy year and what I hope for the next.

The text cursor keeps on blinking, my mind keeps on trying to find the beginning of this post. Where should I start?

So… January 2017 I turned 25 (which I kind of talked about in this poem). It is like 1/3-life-crisis as I remember asking myself, “What have you done? What have you finished? What have you created that you should be proud of?”

It’s a crazy state of asking questions no one can actually answer. So in the end of it all, I let it be. (I’ve been so good at letting things be this year. Not sure if that is good or bad though.)

After the milestone birthday, blog world has been silent while I pour all my energy on Instagram. The camaraderie of the poets there reminded me of how it was here on WordPress, when I was just getting acquainted with my poet-self. I remember being around the awesome group of poets who grew and learned with me. Until one by one they left.

Come May, I released my first poetry collection, Between My Bleeding Lines

BLEEDING LINES

It was exciting to see your words printed and published with a lovely cover by my dear Sarah Doughty. I have honestly no high hopes for this one, and true to “what you think will happen, happens”, it did not soar. Does it matter?

It will be a hypocrite answer to say, “No, book sales doesn’t matter.” Because it does. Who wouldn’t want to hit it big in the first try? Who wouldn’t want to be like Lang Leav and Rupi Kaur? Of course, I do. But I’ve got no expectations and maybe has so little faith. And it showed. It doesn’t make the journey of birthing a book a little less exciting and fulfilling, though. 🙂

Publishing is an uncharted sea I was able to try this year. While the reward isn’t as fruitful, the lessons I learned and the people that made the baby book possible are enough rewards for now. 🙂

In between the hullaballoo of the release and the consistent posting on Instagram, are work tasks which eventually lead me to another “first” of the year which happened last October! My first airplane ride, my first beach experience, and my first out-of-the-country travel trip! (Thailand! :D)

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And 2017 won’t let itself end without a bang as after I went to Thailand for a client’s event, a new job was waiting for me. I was accepted. Considering the family and not myself, I have to accept. Here we go. I have to dive into another uncharted sea.

In between these milestones, I have loved and I have lost. I have given a second chance, and right now, I think that battle is another war that I’ve lost. I want to believe that I’m a brave and not a coward soldier, who knows when to give up. ‘Cause I’m laying down my sword and my armour, it’s time to let people go.

Apologies for such a melancholic post, but believe me, I have a tired heart filled with hope. Like a badly wounded soldier, I’m dusting off my knees and cleaning my wounds.

I am ready for 2018 and the amazing ride it will bring. I am ready to swim the strange sea. I am ready to love and be loved again. I am ready to write and try and try again. I am not at my best position right now, but it doesn’t mean it won’t get better.

It is far better to start the year on bended knee, for that’s the best time to call to the mighty He. I know He will be with me.


HAPPY NEW YEAR, everybody!

i am still here

20171012_112933

i am still here,
juggling balls named
work, poetry, and life.

i am still here,
trying hard to tally
the shifting of day and nights.

i am still here,
working ceaselessly to support
those who matter.

i am still here,
resuscitating the heart
of a hopeless dreamer.

i am still here,
lurking in between the blank pages
filled with waiting words.

i am still here,
discovering and hunting
this fleeting life’s worth.

i am still here
to write, to breathe.

i hope, you are
still there.

10.25.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo of me in Phuket, Thailand

ending agony (WQW)

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I’m participating (finally) for the first time to my dearie Jade‘s Writer’s Quote Wednesday (WQW) and my first quote is from the Still I Rise woman, Maya Angelou and her words that have been “the force” that pushed me to write this blog almost three years ago. (Woah! Time flies! :D)

In my first post, Agony published August 28, 2014, I quoted her and said:

“It has been eight years since I dreamed of having a blog. Something I can call my own. Honestly, I have fears of bashers and grammar Nazis. People who might critique my write-ups. People who might oppose my opinions. Yes, it took me those long years to have the courage to publish my thoughts, my views and my what-not’s. Now it will be all available for the viewing and reading netizens. I am now ready for either praises or rejections, for either wow! or boo!, for anything that this blogosphere has in store for A Reading Writer like me.”

I closed the first post with: “Now my agony has ended.”

Fast forward almost three years after pressing that publish button, I am clearly far from the blogger who I was before. I’m just a reader before. A book reviewer. A fangirl of Nicholas Sparks and Mitch Albom and Jason Mraz and Sara Bareilles.

Now, I am still a reader. Still a fangirl. Still a dreamer. But now, a poetess (or I assume I am :D), a self-published author of my first baby “Between My Bleeding Lines” (a struggling one for that matter), a writer by profession and by hobby.

Has the agony ended? In telling my story, not yet.

For each day opens up a new poem. A new story. A new blank page. A new clean slate. A new struggle. A new battle. A new courage. A refilled bottle of bravery.

To write.
To live.
To dream.
To breathe (words).

For there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

Let’s breathe some more, shall we?

booms and bangs

boom!
crumbles the church the city prayed.

bang!
rings the house of an old friend.

boom!
explodes a truck, bodies sprayed.

bang!
runs peace, hope, in a rushed parade.

between the booms, bangs
i plead above
let this bad dream be
cursed and damned.

This is a fictional poem inspired by the still unending war in Marawi, the only Islamic city in the Philippines. I can never fathom the reasons of these groups in killing not just lives but the hopes, the future of the children left clueless and helpless in the middle of this war. May peace blossom again in this corner of my country.

08.15.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #38 by whimsygizmo.

Today, I want us to DREAM together.

homebound

i have wandered far
from Your loving bay,
i believed alone i
can pave my own way.

step one, two, then three
i walked away slowly
from Your presence like
a bird breaking free.

not knowing never have
You locked me inside
of Your words and light,
my God, bring me back.

08.02.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

back and forth

sometimes i am a
relentless, untiring,
wave ebbing and
flowing to the
shore, back and
forth, back and
forth.

but today i am
transforming and
evaporating from
the sea to the
sky, yes, i have
surrendered and
turned myself into
a possessive sun.

kindness and
attention are
now my rays that
i won’t let you kiss and
have anymore for
i am tired, tired, tired,

of going back
and forth, back
and forth, without
receiving what i
always give.

love.

07.20.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

Confessions, ramblings, and everything in between

Over an hour. That is how long I have been staring at my screen flashing an unfinished article I should finish before the day ends.

Eight tabs. That’s how many articles and resources I have read to be able to start writing and get my mind do what it’s supposed to do.

Numerous words written and deleted. That’s how I have been trying (badly) to write and write and write.

But nothing. My mind is not at it.

Like a boat freely sailing, wandering, on the vastness of the endless sea, my mind seems to be here but nowhere, here but elsewhere. It would be ungrateful to say I feel like a criminal jailed to be stuck in my office chair but that’s how I have been feeling lately.

It took me years to land a job related to my course, Journalism. I have been here for almost three years now and yes, it is fulfilling, tiring, but exciting. But there are days when you want to be as free as a bird. To be a writer tucked under her blanket just reading and writing.

It might be because of age but lately, I have been yearning for a simpler life. A life in a quaint house, by the sea and near the forest where I can wander and wonder. A life without a rushed phase. A life not limited by deadlines. A life not commanded by corporate bosses.

But that kind of life, as simple as it may sound, is too expensive. Expensive because you need money while living a life away from the city and the 9-to-5 job. Because I have responsibilities, and I have a life that isn’t only about me.

It’s been almost two months since I released my debut book, and I am quietly wishing and praying for its success because I dream to be like Lang Leav. Living in New Zealand, writing. But the road to becoming like her seems foggy and bumpy. Am I losing faith? Maybe.

I may not be hungry to make millions for my book, but I am dreaming of living a life as a writer. A creative one. Not someone locked inside a corporate box. But then as the eldest daughter, I got to move. I got to earn. For the family.

How can I pursue my passion and provide for the family? That I have yet to find out. And yes, I am trying to knock doors and windows to turn my dreams into reality.

Like what Ms. Maya Angelou told me again last week, “All great achievements require time.” I need patience and endurance. But most of all faith.

Faith that my time will come. Faith that my book’s time will come. Faith that everything happens for a reason. Faith that no time is wasted. Faith in things I cannot see as of the moment. Faith that He is moving and guiding me.

Easier said than done, I’m trying. Every single day.

For now, let me get back and write the article I need to finish today.