As I sit here staring at a blank page,

I wonder what to write.

It was never my intention to make this a travel blog so I won’t.

What I came here to do, is write.

Instead I found my life more uninteresting now that I’m settled into this new life of jobs and bills;

with nothing else to do.

I’ve been thinking about writing lately but haven’t actually brought myself to type a word until now.

What do I say?

I haven’t been much of a romantic now and days, yet I still shed a tear at the possibility to be.

My heart yearns for a life that I’m not so sure how to live and I’m scared I’ll die before I get to.

One might say I’ll just be reincarnated to achieve my goal in the next life.

But how can I be so sure?

It’s said during Standard Time, when the sun starts to set earlier, people tend to become more depressed.

Is this true?

If so, could that be the source of my seasonal inspiration?


There’s pictures stored in my camera,

left unedited.

Yet I don’t budge in attempt to take it off the shelf.


You need to get a hobby“, says my love.


Is that what people do to fill up their time?

Is it productive?


Or meaningless..?


Depends on the hobby I guess.


If I had to pick a hobby, I’d pick writing every time;

no matter how seasonal it is.


So what do I write?


How damn-near boring my life is,

and how I’d rather be walking the mountains than sitting here surround by screens?


Or how these moments I take for granted,

are my stepping stones towards a path I’ll soon be proud to write about.


Right now, I’m not too sure what I should write.

But I want to make it matter to someone.

And I want to make it good.


We’ll be seeing each other more often;

I hope.





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