AM everywhere

CALERUEGA

March 16, 2019

Caleruega was silent and serene, for starters. It was teeming with multitude hues of greens and picturesque views my naked eyes could possibly sight. Sunshine was always abundant; and although I expected it to be sunny and breezy, the heat of March was still bearable to pull-off an outfit that required my soiled and thick denim jacket. The silence was oddly good for someone like me who can't stand the quietness of the library. It was the kind that begged for time alone and soul reflection, whether it be during the middle of the day when the weather was scorching hot, or past midnight when the stars alight the pitch-black, cold night. 



Sunset at Caleruega was surreal. It always looked like the pink was fighting for its place in the sky, playing with the thin disappearing clouds right before the orange and golden hour. No photograph could give it justice. Days were long and quiet, I have to admit. But immediately after sundown, clock hands seemed to have a difficult time functioning. Nights felt absolutely longer. And they were totally the opposite of silence. The dark was filled with a lot of sneaky laughters from grown-up ladies on their pajamas playing like little orphan girls at the top bunk of the bed. I miss those nights already.


Caleruega showed me how hearts of true champions work. It added another glorious evening on the list; one that is surprising and entirely unexpected. Something that is filed under "a clutch winning performance accomplished with and because of CA3 magic." Let me leave it at: Gold shine just the same, wherever and whenever. *wink wink*
Caleruega had a chapel on the hill and provided a hanging bridge to get there. An added little crazy adventure on this trip down south meant five friends walking down long, dark, silent roads at five in the morning to witness a beautiful sunrise altogether. We paid our respects to Big J, and thanked Him for allowing us to share this experience with people who matter.


My temporary safe space served me perfectly right. It housed a great number of beautiful photos situated on almost every scenic corner of the place. It came with cups of brewed coffee most satisfying to share with my best friend. Also the best fix while I was reading heartfelt letters from people I truly love, all while trying to stop the happy tears welling in my eyes. My absolute favorite part. 


Truthfully speaking, Caleruega was mostly about friendship and love and genuinely appreciating everything else in between. I've kept a blind eye to relationships that deserve most of my soul and my heart; but this time away from the usual opened my eyes to what and who really matters. I left Caleruega with a gracious heart that goes to the very people who have been there for me literally through my joys and sorrows.

Caleruega gave me memories of a lifetime. Whatever I did in my past life to deserve these people who believe in me, love me truly, and are proud of me. I have everything I need to keep up with all the crazy ups and downs life throws at me. My heart is warm and full. 

'Til the next one, Caleruega!
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WRITER'S BLOCK

March 04, 2019
I have all these thoughts kept in the little compartments of my brain, all of it naturally bleeding in my heart. But words are missing. Stuck somewhere. Nowhere. Seemingly buried deep down elsewhere. Truth is, I don't write much anymore and I incredibly miss the adrenaline rush only words can give.

I wish I could write more. Better.

It is my heart that makes the writing all possible. Yet, no matter how fearless and potent it is, it also loses its flame and gets weary at times. It was not as difficult before, to be honest. In fact, words then flowed so rapidly I had to catch all of them as swiftly as possible before I miss an entirely different train of thought from the current. But now, the heart chooses the days when it's vulnerable enough to crack open. And when it strongly refuses to do so, writing crumbles down in one stroke.

But there are also days when it overflows and feels everything all at once that words become so interesting and friendly enough. Days when all I could ever think about was this sudden urge to write about anything. So when one of those days finally comes, allow me to release these thoughts and words— even if they appear lacking and repetitive and senseless by the last line— and to write endlessly until I burn out again.

I will write about the heartbreaks and losses I've braved, and how I got back up and won all of it a hundred times over. I will write about the moments that made me extremely joyful and grateful. Even the things that made me scared and sorrowful, I will share them with you. I will talk to you about the things I dread to discuss using metaphors and idioms and a poem. I will tell you about the man I've loved for so long, and how until today he surprisingly still means something and so much to me.

I will wake and nurse this impassive heart, I promise. I will try, and never stop trying, with hopes that it gets better eventually. But until then, I would carefully keep these stories first in the little compartments of my brain; all of it remembered and cherished, while the heart searches for the right words to give them justice.