Taller happiness—

Fewer alphabets, in three

Spells life flourishing

Bright crescent between

Cheeks, showcasing shades of white

Lined up for a grin

Beyond the delight

In a song, a poem, a bliss,

In a kiss that slipped

Kind transcending through

Colors of spring, warm summer

S’mores in winter eve

Light feathered humming,

Carrying much hope and peace

In its gentle wings.

Where To As Battle Continues


It has been three months since my last journal. I have not been returning likes and comments for no justified reason other than battling with depression. Perhaps the death of two world beloved celebrities namely Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain have resonated in me that I get stuck in deep solitude while missing due reciprocity to all of you. Forgive me.

Thus, reflecting on Bourdain’s and Spade’s passing, I am in dire to find ways to get through my own battle from this medical condition, which I once belittle. The good news is now I understand that depression is not mere sadness.

Because folks, going through this debilitating condition since last December, I experience falterings, twisting every goodness I know of myself. It’s tough. But while I struggle, I pray harder than hardest and continue to reflect.

On Spade, perhaps she died regretting selling her brand in millions of dollars to Nordstrom. She tried to create a new line named Kate Valentine, but maybe she couldn’t wait for its success. I guess knowing her self-named collections are now valued in billions and owned by Coach, Spade’s depression was warranted.

On Bourdain, from being a trailblazing traveler (according to Travel Channel) to a rock star chef and storyteller (on TV and published books) who touched many lives and cultures, Bourdain was phenomenal!

Sadly, following his death, allegations that he was an alcoholic have surfaced. And some even believed he was broken hearted too (separated and apparently on not-so-mutual relationship with a younger Italian actress).

But as a fan, I only noticed the dramatic change in Bourdain’s aura after changing network channel (and work assignments). He started with the Travel Channel for his documentary No Reservation; and considered a career advancement as he joined CNN for a more profound documentary (an Emmy awardee), Parts Unknown. I was thinking the pressures of success and continued success were too much for Bourdain. Regardless, none of his inner circle saw his suicide coming (perhaps everyone was blind sided). Global communities mourned.

And as I try to connect the dots with a little hope that I still can overcome this, I see the common denominator I share with Spade and Bourdain, which is either the estrangement of dreams or annihilation of hope, or both when depressed. For what is worse than living in absence hope and depriving ourselves of dreaming? It’s devastating.

At first, I had a hard time reflecting since Bourdain and Spade were very successful–and I have nothing to be proud of; I have so much to be soured and bitter. I only have this passion to make me happy. But unfortunately, even from this—depression has been pulling me away.

Before, I can write poems instantaneously. But now, I have to scour my thoughts and playlist to come up with a poem. And for the first time in my life, I fear losing this passion to write.

Before, I can read post with fast scanning eyes, like like a bot, and comment as if I am close to Dalai Lama. But now, I fear, I am not welcome to any sites and posts, thinking I am a liability to many; and isolation is my only recourse. I cry in silence for the guilt of abandoning my WordPress friends: They are all nice people–I know. I cry for not being there for anybody; as I am not even here for myself.

So, where do I go from here? Where to? I honestly don’t know. But I am fighting like hell. I rely on exercise and prayers. I have out grown my love for music, which I know is a great therapy too. I even distant myself from everybody even to families and friends. I have been in almost total isolation for months; and I have no explanation. I pray for healing and forgiveness.

Thank you for bearing with me. To God be always all the glory.

Warmest Aloha to y’all.

Here We Go



(Courtesy of YouTube)

We imagine

Sending our big blue kites

A little above the bluer sky,

Halfway to heaven

Where angels play

Like silly butterflies.

But our hands are not letting go

Stapled, glued–we can’t get enough if I may say so

Consolation: We play for the angels

More silly than butterflies

Bewildering the blushing sky

Calling the day off; benching all the kites.

We imagine

Marching braver than the penguins

Holding hands inseparably one winter in northern Antarctic

Where snows end their fate in Hawaiian shave ice,

And the flightless birds need not to hide their babies

Soon coming into life.

But our bodies know only one season: Summer

Know only one task; one mission.

We learn from the bees.

We compete with the bonobos

And the lovebirds, the bowerbirds

The manakins and flamingos.

Imagining aside,

Of eros,

Of philia,



Here we go.