a Batangas escampism


Camping is one of those movie scenes I want to experience and our short escapade to this little beach brought to life an unforgettable moment that helped build our friendship. The conversation we had may have faded just like how the fire eventually lost its spark that night, but the cold sea will remember our whispers, the wind will still carry our tears away, and the stars in the sky will remain witness to the special bond that was formed.


This post is part of #thestrangehertravels photo essay project. 




Overthinking to the extent of making my heart feel light and believing that everything will be fine. (Yes, overthinking in a positive way, coz I made it possible.) When in a crisis, I do that. I clear my mind off the problem first and do things that will make me happy for a while until I forget that I’m actually going through something.


Of course, Reality will knock on my door after a few minutes of relaxing while having amnesia and remind me of my dilemmas. That’s when I start making plans. Still, on my mind. I never write them. Because I’m lazy. Even though I know that writing it down makes it more like a plan. And I rarely share them. Because the burden of keeping someone, or a few, posted is not for me. I prefer telling what happened if I’m past the crisis. Or whatever that is.

In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt In a Crisis.