Category: personal journal
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Longing for a Home
i miss home, but then i am not sure if i am missing a place or a feeling. because the last time i went home, slept in my childhood bed and ate from my mother’s plate—i still missed home. perhaps, the home that i can now only visit in between the seconds of longings and…
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Storms in my Coffee Cup
There are days when my fears sounds louder than all of my courage. I can only afford to see the bluest sky above me shatter with thunder till nothing remains, except for the silence in between the raindrops seeking for a warmer sun. I am tired of the cafe’s white noise and the tremor that…
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finding my way home.
1. somehow, how much ever farther we go, we always end up carrying our home in the depth of our bones. we pack our tradition, our hand woven clothes and our mountains in a suitcase with us. it so belongs to us and we so belong to it. it’s beautiful just how we can remember…
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Dear dad.
“Growing up is cool”, dad would say to me and sit on the sofa, stretching his legs on the table. I would keep down my phone and gently assure his words with a smile. But deep down this one thought burns me’ growing older or just growing tired everyday’. There is nothing much that gives…