#internetvoid

Lately, I’ve been pouring bits of myself into something new—a webnovel. Nothing too serious, nothing too polished, just… fun. A place where I can scatter ideas, spin stories, and see what kind of world takes shape under my fingertips.

There’s something exciting about starting without a clear destination. Each chapter feels like walking into a room I’ve never visited before. Sometimes I stumble, sometimes I surprise myself, and sometimes I just laugh at how weird my brain can get. (≧∇≦)ﾉ

I don’t know if it will ever be “good enough” or if anyone will even care to read it. But maybe that’s the point, it doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be mine. Writing it feels like whispering secrets to the internet void, but instead of confessions, it’s characters, mysteries, and little sparks of imagination.

Maybe it’ll grow into something more. Maybe it won’t. But right now, it’s a seed I’m happy to water, word by word, chapter by chapter, day by day.

Today felt simple, almost uneventful but sometimes those are the days that matter most. I stayed home for most of the morning, books and notes scattered across my desk. Studying felt like a slow rhythm, not rushed, not pressured, just me trying to keep pace with myself. (◠‿◠)

By the afternoon, it was time for the airport run. We sent Mom off to Davao, and though she’ll be back on October 2, the house already feels different without her energy filling every corner. There’s a strange kind of silence when someone leaves, even if just for a little while. A gap you don’t notice until it’s there.

After coming home, the evening drifted into that comfortable stillness I’ve grown used to. No big adventures, no dramatic moments just me, curled up, scrolling through Reddit stories. Some were hilarious, some a little too relatable, and others felt like peeking into tiny fragments of other people’s universes. It’s funny how strangers’ words can keep you company.

The rain hasn’t stopped. It’s loud, relentless, pounding against the roof like it has something to prove. Each drop feels heavy, almost too much, as if the whole sky decided to unload everything it’s been carrying.

But even with that weight pressing down, there’s a strange kind of comfort in it. Durable. That’s the word that keeps circling in my head. Like no matter how strong the downpour, the world doesn’t break, it bends, it endures. Maybe I do too.

The air smells like wet earth and renewal. The windows blur, the streets shine, and the storm sings its own rhythm. It’s overwhelming, yes, but also grounding. A reminder that heaviness doesn’t always mean collapse—it can mean strength holding steady under pressure.

Okay… so I drank. And yes, I’m still laughing about it. (๑>ᴗ<๑) The night started off simple enough—just a casual “why not?”—and suddenly there I was, glass in hand, cheeks already warm before I even realized it.

There’s something funny about how the world tilts when you’re tipsy. Conversations felt lighter, laughter spilled easier, and every song playing in the background sounded like it was written just for me. I don’t know if it was the buzz or the company, but everything felt wrapped in this soft, goofy glow.

Of course, there were a few “why did I say that?” moments… (¬_¬;) but I guess that’s part of the charm. For once, I wasn’t overthinking. Just living. Just laughing. Just… letting the night carry me instead of trying to control it.

Now, sitting here with water beside me (because responsibility, haha), I can’t help but grin at the chaos of it all. Life’s not always profound or poetic. Sometimes it’s just clinking glasses, red cheeks, and a chorus of laughter echoing into the night.

I know, I know, I disappeared for a bit. Sorry, internet void. (｡•́︿•̀｡) It wasn’t intentional, I just got caught up chasing melodies and scribbling lines that somehow felt truer than anything I could say out loud. Writing songs became my little escape, a place where I could untangle the mess in my head and turn it into something that at least sounds beautiful.

The hours slipped away without me even realizing it. One moment I was strumming aimlessly, the next I had a half-finished chorus looping in my brain like a stubborn ghost. (¬‿¬) But there’s something addictive about it, the way words and chords collide to create a piece of me I didn’t even know existed.

Stepping back from everything else felt selfish at first, like I was abandoning the world just to hum to myself in the corner. But maybe that’s okay? Sometimes silence is the only way to hear what’s actually going on inside.

I missed writing here though. Talking into this vast digital nothingness, the internet void, feels like tossing paper airplanes into the night sky, hoping one lands somewhere. Even if no one catches them, at least they’re flying.

So here I am again, resurfacing, guitar still in hand, lyrics scribbled on scraps of paper scattered across my desk. If disappearing meant I could return with new stories, new melodies, then maybe it wasn’t really disappearing at all. (≧◡≦)

“For any fixing or justification of righteousness there will be suffering and moral failings,”

my task is care for mother who just had spinal surgery…

. . .