How’s life, childhood friends?

Like most other friendships, ours also ended with the cliché clause, “we just stopped talking”. I tried but it was harder than I thought. I’ve realized that we were so in love having the best time of our childhood years, we were so happy running and playing random games in front of our houses, on…

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You were once a ray of my sunshine

— a timeless void, a part-time distress, and a half-lighted firefly circling in randoms. Somehow it occurred to me how your light fed me up when everything turned dim as I was approaching the hymns of my void. It occurred to me how you shone instead of setting down for the dusk and it occurred…

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Let me come back like…

… it’s the third of May — messy hair, tucked pajamas, and a face of an almond-colored brow. Let me come back to where I was used to when I thought I couldn’t find myself the moment you broke a part of me. Let me come back to where I’ll forever stay — like a…

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Your smile would always feel…

… like early June, the time where our hearts first met. A thought of me wanders deep down like a cold void, broken by the past I tried forgetting. Like the breezes of the midday January, where our systems tried exchanging the same eye contacts that haunted me — until now. And a step closer…

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Looking back to those years…

… when the neighborhood is full of happy faces and genuine laughter makes me want to go back to those moments of my life because now we’re more than strangers. But keep in mind that we are all strangers with a lot of unforgettable memories.  – Kath Panugan

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And maybe that’s the bad side about photography.

It tickles the pain the moment your eyes saw pictures stored in an old box, a picture that brought a lot of memories that we’re trying to forget. On the other hand, those photos were taken during the moment when your laughs are still genuine and yes, it made you happy somehow. – Kath Panugan…

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As my brother drove down the car…

… bound to an old place where we spent our childhood days, a mixed of excitement and missing pieces was covering my whole soul. As we passed by the old trees beside the petite way, a wave of nostalgia swept after me, oh how I missed the spot. Is this really how Ed Sheeran’s Castle…

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