THOUGHT BUBBLE: A YEAR OLDER

My mom's favorite anecdote about my childhood was that I didn't have one. She'd tell friends or relatives that she doesn't remember ever seeing me play games like my younger siblings did and wonders what I did when I as a child. Of course, it's kinda hilarious to hear now that I am an adult... Continue Reading →

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THOUGHT BUBBLE: THE VIEW FROM THE FENCE

Years ago, I would not be so concerned with my words or language. But then again, this would merely be just some note scribbled on a piece of paper that would end up being folded and tucked between the pages of some book to be eventually misplaced and forgotten. Though writing in this virtual space... Continue Reading →

THOUGHT BUBBLE: QUIET TIME

  When I was younger, I welcomed the noise and the chaos of day to day life.  I needed to be constantly surrounded by people and engaged in any activity to fill up all the gaps in a day.  I hated the quiet moments, especially that window between being drowsy and actually falling asleep.  Whatever thought or... Continue Reading →

THOUGHT BUBBLE: REMINISCENCE

I bid goodbye to my old blog THiRTYSOMETHiNG and all my other blogs when I started Bacolod Walks in 2010. There is always that conscious effort to sound straight forward and avoid being emotionally charged. In other words, nakpapaka mature. I reopened THiRTYSOMETHiNG a few days ago. (Fortunately, I still remembered my account name and... Continue Reading →

THOUGHT BUBBLE: REDEFINING

The problem with adult life is when we reach that stage where we slowly begin lose the people that matter in our lives.  We know that death is a certainty.  It will surely come though we don't know when or how.  I always thought I'd die young (What can I say, I was a morbid... Continue Reading →

OF SUNSETS AND MISSED SHOTS

As I was driving home from work today, the western horizon was slowly turning into graduated shades of orange and gold, the sun was hovering just a little above the horizon when I caught a glimpse of sakadas on top of a ten-wheeler truck, loading it with sugarcane, cleaning each stem to minimize trash, and... Continue Reading →

BACOLOD: WHITES

Roses are red... well, not necessarily.  I'm not fond of any particular flower... though I love white roses or any flower that is white.  Maybe it's the simplicity... or the peacefulness it evokes.  Walking past the flower stalls at the Bacolod Public Plaza were buckets (and buckets) of roses waiting for someone to take them somewhere...... Continue Reading →

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