Not every journey begins with applause. Some begin in silence—amid doubt, quiet ridicule, and doors that refuse to open. Arga had learned that truth long before he was old enough to understand life. He

I found an old hour sleeping in the cabinet Tucked beneath the once cherish frame A fragment of a smile we wore Before the passig of time redefined the line We used to be a family of one Where the day

Be the master of your own destiny.

Rain had been falling since late afternoon, tracing silver lines across the window of a quiet café tucked into the corner of the city. At the table nearest the glass sat Arga, his hands wrapped around

Be the master of your own destiny.

Be the master of your own destiny.

Be the master of your own destiny.

No digas nada solo calla y escucha las voces del silencio que el profundo dolor pare a gritos. Todo desdibujado y lúgubre nadie mira al cielo hurgando en los escombros que ocultan el aliento a vida. Se

An original poem by @yayogerardo Pressure point Headache Anoint Herbal bake Aroint No take Salt, water and lime Drink fast Out of time Outlast What's the crime Why this cast! Dislocated collar, shoulder

Be the master of your own destiny.

Be the master of your own destiny.

Be the master of your own destiny.

Cuando mis manos ya no pueden y el silencio se agolpa en el viento. Cuando la estrella ayer brillante regresa al alma para iluminarla. Cuando debes partir sin conocer los ojos del horizonte sin saber mentir.

My body is my temple. Ever since I heard this line in “Black Bathing Suit” by Lana Del Rey, I started treating mine like so.

Impermanence Beyond Asia I was thinking about impermanence because of a loss. It is impossible to stop losing someone or something for our own reasons, but it is not easy to accept such losses. The reason

I glimpse the land's border. Yesterday, it used to be an islet covered by waves. Today, even closer, it thrills me, the lighthouse's light thrills me! Today, even closer, I frequent the rocky edge. I have

The world was loud, lonely, a blurry stream Everything seem static, a shadow of what was real A life that felt cold , lost of its warmth Until you stepped into the waking dream No words were spoken yet

Rapunzel, rapunzel, Let down your hair. Are you locked in a tower, with no way to escape? No carrier pigeon To send off for aid? No way to sneak out, Where you are not watched By hostile parties that

A poem about fatherhood, gratitude, legacy, the next generation, and the transforming power of the Gospel.

Day by day, little by little, his life became part of my own. His routines. His worries. His dreams. Somewhere along the way, I stopped imagining a future without him in it. Then one day, he chose to leave.