Closure

This blog has filled itself with so many memories of the past few years, and indeed it was, at first, just an exercise of thought organization which precludes the writing of good articles, no matter how personal it is. In the end, I've been so attached to this blog, so clingy to the memories of the past, that looking back I just can feel the aroma of the change that has come and gone throughout the years.

The first blog entry was an essay about Feminism, and it was intended as a critique of the point-of-view of Mrs. Biavati on the first story of our Philippine Literature class. We were in third year college then, and I was young. Some of the entries are too ranty, too emotionally driven, that sometimes I'm just ashamed of reading them, and thus I could only wonder: what the hell was I thinking then?

Then came the "changes" articles, where in fact those were attachments to a repeated cycle of immature notions of romantic love and blurred convictions. Then my turmoils with love. Then my own philosophizing and rationalization. Then my poems. My stories.

All of those, I think, deserve to be kept under lock-and-key now that a real beginning must ensue soon, and will inevitably be so. It's sad, but it must happen, for the way to growth must be learning how to let go.