I don't buy clichés. I'm that sort of writer who would rather write out what I actually feel.
But then life always has its way of catching up on me. Catching me off guard no matter how far I've run away, now matter how long I've avoided it.
Yes, that there is a belly, and those are wrinkles. I've been on hospital duty for a friend for a week and have neglected my new gym membership. His friends (my new friends — I've known him for quite a bit) and I tried to distract him from the pain of post-operation with movies and TV series, and what stuck the most was 'Frozen' and 'Bakit Di Ka Crush ng Crush Mo' ('Why Your Crush Doesn't Have a Crush on You') — both sappier than my usual fare.
I've always been very careful with professing the things that I believe in. Probably suspecting my own insincerity or just being afraid of being proven wrong. Or betrayed.
But faith has almost always made me say/do the corniest of things. What would usually take several stanzas or points of argument to arrive at.
Blood warms fast. The gut thrusts. Now it's us.
Words pile up and underneath them are more ... and ... More things in threes.
Time to pick up a pitch fork to start the work.
Raglan tee, Uniqlo
Jeans, Armani Exchange