I have a terrible joke

Kidding. I have lots of terrible jokes. Jokes don’t have to be funny, are they? They just have to be part true, part painful, and in between, part hopeful, little giggles sprouting like little seeds from the gaps of the concrete. I’m all about the giggles. I feel ticklish whenever there’s Kindness and Smarts around.

I always say I am a smol person, even though in reality, I am an average-sized Filipina (I’m pretty sure you know we’re mostly not that tall either). I guess smolness is not an actual, physical measure. It’s what you feel. It’s what I always feel. Small like a pebble. Easily lost in among the rocks.

What I’m trying to say is, if you are expecting some Great and Awesome thing, you might want to look away. I’m sorry for not having Grandness in my menu. But, if you love tiny rays of joy, little spurts of hope, this is your letter. This is your place.

How many times do you want me in your inbox?

I most certainly ditched my blog so I could write somewhere else. But the good news is that I write without conditions (and that means Constant Time and Obligatory Days). I don’t like feeling being tied to something I love doing so randomly. But hey, you won’t have to worry about missing anything. Every new edition of the newsletter goes directly to your inbox for as long as you want.

Who am I?

There’s the question, is it? Well, what I could tell you is this: I’m a writer. A hymn-maker. I am a she/her. I am from the Philippines, and the lockdown we’re having has been far too long. Watch this space to know when we’re out of this prison.