Promises to keep

When I read about other people's adventures, and I feel a twinge of jealousy, that's me, hearing a bell tolling for me in the distance: It's almost time, it's almost time.

And each day the ringing becomes louder, and the day will come when I will not be able to ignore it anymore for the very simple reason that it is drowning out everything else that used to matter.

This has happened before.

I've always navigated by the heartstrings, ever since I was a child. For someone who is often hard put to express her truest feelings without bursting into an ocean of words or a mass of contrasting emotions, I'm also the owner of one of the world's most succint heart. No. Yes. Go. Run. Stop. Leave.


Maybe it's the deaths of young writers, the young shapers of my world. I count three now, in a space of one month.

I am sad to admit that at 31, I haven't started saying what I know only I can say.


I'm off to Bohol again.

Thank you for the gift of travel.