I am a work in progress. I am your first draft to your thesis paper, the failed experiment to your hypothesis, and the unedited manuscript to your rejected story. I am your first mistake but I wouldn’t be your last.

I am a mute girl who have a lot to say. The silent one in the crowd who sees more. I laugh hard and cry hard. I makes promises as easily as you tie your shoelaces. Others, I break but most, I keep. I am a keeper of memories though and often times it’s a bad thing. The last thing I do before I sleep is think, think and think. I think about what life would have been if I’d made different decisions back then. Useless, but comforting. I think about what my life would be like twenty years from now if I keep at my current pace. I think about the things I wish I hadn’t said and the words I wish I had. I think about the people I have no right to miss and wish things are back the way before we know about boys, make-ups, fashion trends, and love. I think about how difference is such a bitch to any relationships. I think about why my friends make a lot of money while I don’t. I think about the worsening politics of my country, the war in Syria and neighboring countries, the situation in Tacloban, in Nepal and other countries who’s at the receiving end of Mother Nature’s rage. And I think about that person in that little house in that little town whose appalling story never made it to the headlines.

I am more of a thinker than a doer. Society calls me lazy, apathetic and selfish. I call myself a brooder.

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