Hello world!

I originally started my blog in wordpress.com but found the blogsite way too complicated. My powers couldn't handle it, so here i am now. This was my first post on wordpress.

Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

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I chose neither to delete nor edit this default blog because if you took a picture of me right now, this would be the subtitle for that picture. HELLO WORLD! in all its capital letter glory.

I recently graduated from the oldest university in asia. 400 years old, imagine that. But as old as this university is, i am as young. I am, what you could say, fresh meat for the jungle that we commonly know as “LIFE”. To start things properly, i feel its apt that i make a short list of “about me” stuff:

1. i’m 22, i am at the prime age. The age where everyone is “hottest” or “sexiest” as they can ever be. The age wherein the years after will start to be wrinkly and soggy.

2. i’m currently a bum

3. life as i know it, is just about to change (read further as to why)

4. and i’m gay, that always makes things more interesting.

I started blogging because i feel like this would help me keep track of my life. Sort of how little girls keep they’re diaries, except I’m not little anymore and i didn’t start of as a girl. In 2 months time, i’m going to be sent to New York. With no one but myself and nothing but my drive to start my own life. Forever saying goodbye to the droning bum’s life and the umbrella of safety provided by my family.

It’s always hard when someone has to leave. But what people don’t realize, it’s harder when you’re the one who has to leave. I’d like to ponder about this, what makes leaving so hard? Most people would say it’s the transition, the drastic change in one’s life or being away from your family. But i beg to differ, transition and drastic change? I’m young, and young people have the natural craving for something different, for the unknown, for change. Being away from my family? i doubt. I lived the last 22 years of my life with a family where there’s always someone missing at the dinner table. Growing up, my dad was a pilot and my mom was a flight attendant. I practically begged them to leave sometimes because i want them to buy me “pasalubongs.” (presents from wherever they fly). Aside from this, I spent my college days away from my family. I’m used to it. I think leaving will be hard for me because i know there is no turning back. When something is goes wrong, i can no longer run home to mommy or daddy. When i get depressed, and believe me when i say it happens a lot, i will no longer have my family to pull me through. No more safety. No more security.

when i leave, it will be as if it’s my family who left me. when I leave, i’m the one who’s gonna be alone.

So there you go, thats going to be my story. Young gay and alone in New York, New York!