When I was young, I spent my days and nights trying to impress future generations. I spent them. They're gone. All because I was deathly afraid of being forgotten. And then came the regret. The worst things of all worst things.

Clichés remind and reassure us that we're not alone, that others have trod this ground long ago.

I'm home and safe and filled with the comfort of being somewhere I've already been. The ruckus of homecoming is brutally enjoyable and everyone makes me feel like a champion. And all I had to do was stay away long enough.

Sometimes one waits too long for the perfect moment before snapping the picture. You never realize that you needed was to change perspective.

Love and honesty don't mix.

I dont see myself as any different from all the other Filipinos who have gone abroad looking for opportunity, to be a nurse, a labourer, a maid or a prostitute.

To be an honest writer, you have to be away from home, and totally alone in life.