I went out to Punta Fuego — located in Nasugbu, Batangas for a summer weekend; the sights were pretty breathtaking and let’s say that even just the shortest of local trips really invigorate oneself to the beauty of the world around you. Needless to say, my lust and desire to travel and wander (to perhaps even farther places, sometimes you really miss the stale airplane meals since the feeling of the sky descending beside you is something that really enlightens you; counting city lights like the stars, and all the like) has really surged. As a collection of keepsakes from a minuscule 2-day trip, here are some photos and a short guide-by of the trip; though of course — incomparable to taking in a vivid landscape before your own eyes.
Category: journal
personal drabbles, what would be my journal ?
Fuego
Reading Time: 16 minutes
Clouds and Projects
Reading Time: 2 minutes
A quick update. In all honesty; I haven’t done as much this summer as I would have liked. I got into a lot of new things, and most especially started diving in (for the very first time) and indulging myself on an instrument that I have always wanted to play. Additionally, the threat of university and the future and all that has been creeping up on me; as in totality — it truly decides where I am headed. With the time of a little less than three weeks before an intensive junior year starts; I figured that I should start doing (and actually completing) some projects that I’ve started in the past and doing some things that are actually beneficial and of use – things that could mean a lot to where I am going, my goals, and the like.
Sixteen
Reading Time: 14 minutes
1.) I think, those were the days when I should have been a little more reckless. In a way that I assumed more control than I usually did — in a way that I stopped letting them get a hold of me, everything I say, everything I do. I think it’s time to let go, to let loose and show them who I really am — but that isn’t the case. Beyond this husk of a person they deem in a forever-lasting nadir, the prickling of skin and the drops of blood as if they were shed tears. In the kindest, most terse way as possible — I concede to them; maybe I am magnanimous to some, to others I am just the word weak instilled into the waking world over and over.