iriemorning

[iriemorning]

Legends

learn from those who inspire you

sun enters virgo

the moment i was tackling on book-related apps

appeased my cramps

welcome to cl 113 fave poem

managed my first day of period

active on twt

alternative to readera and goodreads

downloaded bookfusion and moon reader and storygraph, bookmory

got natalia collector skin

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

i think im getting the hang of it

attending to my needs everyday

eating, sleeping whenever my body asks for it

tending to my body like a mother does to its child

i’ve become very neutral

i get to do stuff

a lot of stuff

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

how can the impact of my hobbies expand to other people?

an influence larger than just myself

resonating with the majority

but also has to be something personally meaningful

i do it because i genuinely like it,

not because someone told me to do it, or ive seen someone else do it

look back on past achievements i took effort in

and people gravitated towards it

“being useful to other’s vision”

providing value to others

considering the reality of the industry i want to get into

“the successful” often have one of these things:

superior clout (trend, marketable, large groups, 11H)

superior money (possessions, resources, personal/other’s assets 2H/8H)

superior connections (people you may know and built trust with,7H)

superior experience (time spent in the field, industry ladder 10H)

its not just all about ability

you start to escalate into superior status if you get one of the four above

only then you would start to become relevant in the industry clique

the reality is: its rare that people break in as a Visionary

most of the time people break in as servants

they make themselves useful to established Visionary’s visions

but no matter what

all people care about is what you can contribute to the equation

whether as a visionary or a servant

the bottom line is it has to be something personal and meaningful

on a business framework, if you decide on the ability standpoint

here’s some value

would you like some more value?

thats when you can start to elevate your status a bit

the first step should be helpful enough to someone’s personally meaningful vision

that people are gravitated to seek for more, not forced

like a zero-risk free trial period

showcasing your style

for someone to say

“finally someone put it into words”

find the sweet spot

meet people where they are

provide value

collaborative sweet spots

exchange of values

superior money: comes with risks. would someone be willing to put their assets at stake for your vision? if they put up with that risk, they expect to get as much rewards or more

now lets get back to superiority scale

superior clout: most unstable, trends come and go and get replaced

superior connections: sustainable as long as there’s equal exchange of values, collaboration of sweet spots.

superior experience: rock solid. also the strength of knowing, whether consciously or subconsciously, that such a superiority scale exists and consider that as a stepping stone to strengthening their visions into reality

the easiest anyone could have is connections though

as social beings, we would always know someone

the key is utilizing that even though it might seem trivial

and the most successful ones i consider are those who held on to their vision right from the start

people who knew their sweet spots and kept on refining it

example -- all might’s (my hero academia) sweet spot: the symbol of peace

“it’s hard to make people care about things, but it’s easier to make things that people care about.”

a vast majority of audiences dont care about your idea that theyve never heard of unless they can latch on to some point of familiarity within your project

thats why stories that twist pre-existing ideas tend to get more traction than stories that are 100% original

find the intersections where the things you value line up with some existing audience, community, or interest

right when i first started writing

my story, the wrong way, gained traction because i used my classmates as characters

every chapter only lasts a page

so its short and easy for everyone else to contribute a chapter

everyone got invested

(but remember: i started the whole idea)

from my past works in high school

the most memorable and fun ones always had a musical accompaniment

we wrote lyrics over original songs

and used music as a way to elevate a scene and major story beats

there was always this given prompt or form that we have to do

and i pitched a creative way to meet that

everyone else got on board

DAMN THEIR IMMENSE TRUST ON ME

i built that since elementary, since first year of high school

when the opportunity came for me to pitch and write, i took it

nowadays i discover prompts by myself

anything goes. and i develop that

what i need to find is the prompt that are already valued by my chosen audience or readers

first i need to determine is

who are my audience? who are my readers?

[ON CLOUT]

current trend — a lot of good indie books, but only those that get viral on booktok get traction. the usual ones that go viral though have mediocre storylines

— established IPs, or those writers that have already made a name for themselves get paid attention by publishers and producers

current resources — NONE. used it all up for paying up my credits. except for my wealth of knowledge 😎 well maybe i can inherit my grandpa's land on mindoro but thats a long shot he wanted me to be a lawyer and i dont want that

current connections — the established people i know, who know the ins and outs of their industry is my boyfriend and his team. and the film insiders i know on twitter that i follow but not interact with. so far i met professors who excel in writing and literature but thats all about it. i attend classes but never consulted one-to-one except when required. i also have classmates who pursue the same career hotspot as i am but i dont interact much except for class activities

current experience — 10 years since i started writing (wattpad). i wrote scripts during high school. made unfinished personal stories. always stocked up on ideas even if im not actively writing. explored different mediums of storytelling. fell in love with stories in ebook, paperback novel, comics and webcomics, drama, movie, tv series forms. learned about the technicalities of writing fiction, CNF and screenplay. still a bit mediocre about poetry. im now building a board of my personal notes and tips i acquired from youtube videos

whats next?

sweetener, sweetener, sweetener

im quite sad

some things really just dont go in my favor that easily

if i want something, i have to find the best way to get to it

im being tested right now if i really want this new degree program

and if i want to hold on to the classes i enlisted

i want to graduate with a degree that i really want

something that i desire

not because i think it is the most efficient way to get to my goal

it is my goal

something that i wanted subconsciously for so long

now that its in my grasp

theres another big hurdle

i usually sit in the front, at the passenger seat next to the driver going back to my dorm

but today i sat at the back

at the bitter end

i want to be in the front row of life

to trailblaze my way onto the things that i want

if i continue living like this, i will just keep showing my bitter spot

doing things only for the sake of passing

on to the next

robotic.

quite a lukewarm way of living

it sucks

i want to sweeten things up

in my current degree program, i couldnt show my sweet spot

i was held back by these disciplinal standards

i want to learn literature to refine my style, not my taste

i already have good taste

i want my style to be refined that whenever people read it, it hits the sweet spot

i contribute like that, i showcase my sweet spot like that

i want to make my bitter spots sweet

and my sweet spots sweeter

in order to do that, i have to strengthen my sweetener

day by day, i’ll drown in my own sweetness

watched how to be a successful creative and wrote my thoughts on it

prepared my ginisang ingredients

cooked ginisang dilis but kikiam version

prepare for school

nagpaprint

nag-appeal for DQ (KAYA KO TOH)

watched play x together

finished cl 172 conforme

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

i can end my decan earlier

after all, im the timekeeper, right?

now that i have finally come to the terms of mothering myself

treating myself like my own daughter

maybe i could also apply it to

how i treat my stories and ideas

how i take care of my boyfriend

how i bond with my family

how i show up in school

treating them like my babies

a cause larger than just myself

mothering is like bread

its not a stone that sits there

it must be baked and remade anew daily

like bakeries

when youre feeling low and scared before the break of dawn

you feel solace

thinking that bakers are already up making bread for that day

the mold their time to be awake

and get us bread @ 3 am in the morning

that quote on twitter:

if you ever are sad or scared at 3am just remember that we're up preparing donuts, and the donuts are warm for you.

check out face & hair setting spray

i thought of LILITH OF THE VALLEY DAMNNNNNN

decided on hand cream, polished my gifts for my boyfriend

cooked rice early

changed mouse cursor to bamgeut

checked crs and joined gclasses (3)

wrote my letter of intent

watched preliminary activity and took notes

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

i’ve had this thought for a few days already

when it comes to hygiene and overall taking care of myself everyday

i have to think of it like im taking care of my own daughter

i treat myself like i would my daughter

taking bathe everyday, feeding myself when im hungry

doing skincare, body care, nail care, hair care

cooking myself and ordering delicious food

making myself pretty, washing my clothes

buying me stuff considering my personal taste and style

its how i would take care of my child

:)

i found out that the thicker the coat layer, the more choppy the polish gets

and more susceptible to bubbles

its also more effective to have thick coat on the brush but not too thick

and to swipe the thick residue fast.

careful of swiping but accidentally doable coating the polish, it would make an uneven layer

got vaseline gluta-hya lotion and eryth toner

finally mastered the perfect pattern of polishing my nails (one layer coat + cuticle conditioner after 5 mins + one layer top coat) = smooth and sheer effect ITS SO PRETTY

got pretty active on twt

finished overhaul arc in MHA

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

got my doughnut bag

cleaned my footnails from polish

cooked rice in a new way w/ tomatoes and cabbage

painted my nails except for my right hand

active on twitter again

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

what i delayed for a long time is finally done

i passed my VSO letter

prepared my bag

got my absidy powder

paprint

passed my VSO letter

visited UP in a long time

check out erythromycin

planned for better skincare on face

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

paano pag nawala na ang spark?

i watched a podcast talking about this and this is what stood out to me the most

to power through

earlier i had no motivation to commute

but i somehow powered through it, albeit reluctantly

but when u used up power, its also important to consume energy

what you loss, you gain back

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

for this middle decan:

transfer last reconstructions and other stuff from purewriter to notion

first draft episode 1-6

i watched MHA for the whole day and waited for the hyuka live :}

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

how much has changed in a year?

i look back to my pictures from the past and its amazing when i compare the levels of the me one year ago versus to the me now

but there are still some salty residues

i had a good start of the day and was even feeling positive about posting throwback pictures and recounting my experience but i felt that saltiness as the day got older

why havent they come back?

its also the day year ago where i havent slept a wink to prepare

to see them, to see him

im really amazing…

to devote myself like that

pushing myself to my limits

commuting alone at almost midnight

i survived

helped out my siblings before they go to school

i ate heartily today

i got into this fresh slate of ideas in the morning and added some writing stuff for my blog, for my stories

activated my gcash visa card

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

next step of my buy list is here

i gave away my white samba to nate

this is kind of like a white day

felt like i did a lot but took a break from my decan 😓

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

i woke up from a dream that nate was counting numbers so coherently

i wish he speaks soon

commute

unboxed most of my parcels

prepared lumpia rolls

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

i woke up from a dream that my brother was counting numbers so coherently

i wish he speaks soon

finished soren subplot

did my bloody laundry

prepared my laundry in a bag

prepared my bags for going home

commute

unboxed most of my parcels

prepared lumpia rolls

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

is s***** in cahoots with my boyfriend?

im thinking that i’ll extend this decan until 11th since i started on the 2nd

I GOT CL 113 ON CRS MWAHAHAHAHHAJHAJHAJHJAHA (now im complete: short story, poetry, children’s lit)

finished reorganizing visualization hub of episodes on notion

finished sonja subplot

finished owen subplot

started soren subplot

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

is s***** in cahoots with my boyfriend?

im thinking that i’ll extend this decan until 11th since i started on the 2nd

I GOT CL 113 ON CRS MWAHAHAHAHHAJHAJHAJHJAHA (now im complete: short story, poetry, children’s lit)

finished reorganizing visualization hub of episodes on notion

finished sonja subplot

finished owen subplot

started soren subplot

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

happy third monthsary to me and my boyfriend <3333 wuv him so much

the traditional TV pilot with four acts equals to first 4 episodes of an anime, but each anime episode has its TEN - climax

follows the KiShoTenKetsu structure

each episode ends with a shocking Ketsu - and the next episode begins with Deku reflecting on that shocking event

i also love the FLIP method so much

it makes more aware on how to play with cliches and language in general

nacpan skin tint arrived

finished eps 1-4 of My Hero Academia and compared how crafting a pilot applies to anime.

done all post-its including FLIP

made a small gift for my bf HAJHJAhghdhfFAgfgafga

reached Legend V in MLBB

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.

[iriemorning]

international cat day

and intl orgasm LOL

my sacral chakra was active ACTIVE

also i was a bit disconnected for the first wee of august but starting this day i got back to my sense of self and wants

i love my boyfriend

hope he’s doing well

checked out nacpan skin tint and message capsules unsubscribed to minor channeled message readings to keep my recommendation page more curated finished reviewing writing tips done all post-its except for flip method

august snapshots

august 2024 was a quiet, confusing month. i wasn’t writing poems yet.

i hadn’t even started ars poetica galeria. i was just journaling—typing whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t lead anywhere. there was no shape or form, just thoughts on the page.

this was the month before i began my ars poetica galeria. before i started thinking about poems as poems. before i studied form and line and sound. back then, i had no medium to funnel my randomest thoughts down—just a blinking cursor and a scattered mind. my thoughts spilled out as journals. just text. just fragments on a document.

i was still feeling my way through. or, as we say in tagalog, nangangapa pa ako. there’s no perfect english word for that, i guess? maybe… fumbling. maybe… groping in the dark for something you know is there, but can’t name yet.

these are not polished pieces. some are disjointed. some don’t make sense at all. they begin and stop like mid-thoughts. they’re not meant to be fully understood. but maybe that’s the quiet beauty of journaling. wanting to catch your mind on paper—before it flies away.

and i’m sharing them because they mattered and they would still matter, even if they never became anything else.