The rain kept on pounding the roof, but the voice recorder went on. We continued the interview. This time, I asked Bro. Razi how their apostolate works. "Every time I talk to these kids, I think of how young they still are, yet they are already concerned of survival, of earning to live. Childhood was stolen... Continue Reading →
The rain was heavy that afternoon. Streets were flooded. Roads were congested. Ever and anon, I flinched at the rumbling thunder. My Grab car waded willy-nilly through the traffic, until finally, at half past 2, I found myself at Our Lady of Annunciation Parish. A moment later, I shook hands with Bro. Razi. He led... Continue Reading →
I ran fast when I was little. That feeling of freedom, of wind blowing against my face, and of that heat that spread in my body at each halt are still vivid to me. I remember how I wished I could never stop running since the heat and sweat made me uncomfortable. My legs, however,... Continue Reading →
The Storytelling Project piqued my interest the first time I happened on it. I like stories. When I was young, Papa would tell us tales about farm, soldiers and God every night until sleep rolled over us. We also used to keep two drawers of children's books in the living room. Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, and books... Continue Reading →
Warning: Long article ahead. I've told most parts of this 'accident story' countless times, but I desire to preserve the memory of the actual incident here, quite in detail, no matter how traumatic. Perhaps, I'm doing a desensitization, or I just don't want its lessons to disintegrate with time. Here it goes. I woke differently that... Continue Reading →
Writers fill the earth. You can see them thronging on social media - a screenshot-worthy status, that perfect IG caption, a serial novel on FB Notes. Now here you are, an aspiring writer, thinking, My gosh, they are awesome. How can they express themselves that well? Also, what with those words you didn't know exist? Subjugate. (What... Continue Reading →
I had this habit, when I was little, of sitting on a stool beside our stereo casette player every midday. I would listen to worship songs and sing along with Don Moen or Steve Kuban or whose voice that was. A lyric card lie unfolded on my hand. No one in my clan scolded me for... Continue Reading →
"Now comes the big question: What are you going to write about? And the equally big answer: Anything you damn well want. Anything at all...as long as you tell the truth." - Stephen King, On Writing I've not been writing as much lately. I want to. No, I desire it. But each time I try,... Continue Reading →
Ever since I opened Scribblory (my writing business), I keep getting this nagging thought of you-don't-have-the-right-to-do-this or you-are-not-good-enough. You see, there is this glaring fact that I have no formal training in writing nor any huge accomplishment in the craft save, of course, my dear memoir, Finding You, which has not found a seat in the "Best-Selling Books"... Continue Reading →
