Umaaraw, umuulan

Hello, I’m still here. I’ve been wanting to write like it was the 2000s ever since my father passed away. So unexpectedly.

I have yet to process that death, by the way. It happened so fast, and the thing about the world is that it won’t stop for your grief. It moves on, whether you sit and pause and cry. I’ve cried, sometimes, so much, at his deathbed, on our house while I was alone looking for his clothes to bury with him while I hear my sister crying in her room. I cry sometimes, randomly, while cooking or in the silence of a room. But I have yet to process it.

Maybe that’s why I wanted to write again like it was the 2000s. That was my peak blogging era, pouring my thoughts out in Blogspot in my new PC. I would stay up late and hide so that my Papa won’t find out that I spent the whole night in front of the PC.

I miss Papa. Thank you so much for loving me as your own daughter.

I miss blogging.

Writing to learn/ Learning to write

Few years after leaving academia, I have forgotten how to write. And then after I became pregnant, gave birth, lived through a pandemic while raising a kid, I forgot how to read and think intellectually. I haven’t read a solid good book, I haven’t written anything of good quality, I don’t even know how to think so eloquently as before. In short, I’m so rusty.

Last week, I was invited to give a Facebook Live video on the importance of social media in advocacies – and for a moment, I really don’t know where to start. I mean I feel like all those knowledge is in my brain somehow, but it’s just so dusty and foggy up there.

So here’s to putting my thinking cap on again, and hoping I am still you know, smart. By doing word vomit and blogging, again.