It's 3:37am in Manila and I'm in the middle of changing my entire website. This is what it was like when I first started West Fourth Street. My roommate Michal and I were up until 4 or 5am in the morning working on our websites, stressing over every little detail. I'd look over next to me in our dark room and see her face crunched up in concentration, illuminated by her laptop screen. We prioritized our websites over our homework. Not much has changed.
I'm working on a lot of new poetry as well as turning all my old ones in JPEGs so I can start properly archiving them. This involves a scavenger hunt into every single journal I carry, in every pursue I use, every untitled note saved on my phone, and every scrap of paper that I have saved. It's a tedious and never ending process that always leaves me with something I forgot to write months ago.
During this scavenger hunt I came across a lot of old, sad poems about love during a time when I swore I would never love again. Heartbreak is a bitch.
It takes me a while to get over things, and I've accepted that.
What I like about writing is that I create small time capsules that I get to look back on. These poems are a part of a time when I was confused, acting dumb and wallowing in self pity. But time heals all wounds, and now I'm able to put that version of myself in these time capsules and move on.