Sweet Lolita


I am a plastic figure –
Small and whole.
All day I endure
Being played by a fool.

I am dressed with shiny things.
Every day I am dreaming
That my knight in armor will come
But days gone by till I am numb.

On the surface I smile
But tears flow like the River of Nile
Because I am being played by a fool.
To him, I am just a mere tool.

I am my masters’s one and only.
But truth revealed, I am one among his many.
I dreamed a dream but it never came.
In the end, I am the only one to blame.

The dolls that he played with,
He played them well.
And when he got tired of them,
He’ll just destroy them in hell.

A fragile doll that was destroyed
A toy that was being toyed.
So I left my closet with no regret.
This is a lesson learned I will never forget.

(Photo credit: deviantart.com)



My body has almost gone cold. I shiver with the winter breeze. I stand up and light the fireplace. Admiring the flames that warm this tiny room, i look outside the window..

It is such a quiet evening.

Everything seems normal yet somehow different. Or maybe that was what i want to think. Lights of Christmas fill the dark night but this deafening silence hangs in the air. It doesn’t feel like Christmas at all. Pity.

Then snow falls.


The people who have been locking themselves inside their houses go outside to celebrate. Laughter all around the place, carolers start to head out in every house and sing endless Christmas carols with their hearts out.

In just a second, the silent town change into one I’ve never seen before. I open my window and reach out for the snow. A snowflake lands in my hand. I stare at it innocently and a smile unknowingly paint across my face.

It is definitely Christmas Eve.

(Photo credit: nyewall.com)

Wooden Craft



Wood carvings;
I’ve been dreaming
I’ve been wishing
I’ve been pleading.

Reality, thus, seems far.
I took a while to ajar
the door i’ve been looking at –
The carvings I’m glaring at.

Wood carvings, are you real?
On the wooden door, you that i feel;
Swirls, depth, pattern by my hand,
I’ve been waiting for my dreams to land.

Trapped Within The Darkness



Insanity. Greed. Hatred. When did you lose yourselves?

The world I live in is covered with darkness. No living creature, no trace of humanity. It is sad. No..rather, living in this world makes me sad. It leaves me in despair when I wake up and as I go to sleep. I am alone. I have no one to turn to. I walk along the dark path — blinded by evil. I have been left alone..each and every time. All I did is to love them, so much more than what they deserve; yet they always hurt me and leave my side. And that’s when I learned never to trust again.

So when did i lose myself?

Perhaps, it was when I killed those that I loved. My parents, siblings, friends, fellow men — they paid the price for hurting me. They left me with emotional scars. They betrayed me. They left me with nothing. I have nothing, I am nothing.

Wait.. I think it goes back way before that. I lost myself when I killed myself..with love and happiness. I knew they (love and happiness) won’t last but I still chased them not knowing I’ll be drowning in the insanity that they bring. With happiness, comes sorrow. And with love, comes hatred. Both end up in regret and hurt.

Yes, that is when I killed and lost myself, and eventually, also ending up killing and losing them and the others as well — because only they will understand me when they experienced the suffering and pain that I had felt.

I am trap within the realms of darkness. With eyes closed, I no longer have hopes in seeing even a tiny sliver of light.

This is my answer to those that have questioned me. You made me take the road of hell. You made me what I am today. I will never again believe in the deceptive love and happiness that you always longed for. I longed for them, too, but I ended up with nothing. These hands have been washed with countless lives and blood — both of the innocent and the guilty. I will have justice..I will take it. And as I do so, I will be singing my requiem for you as I write my own history.

(Photo credit: top and bottom photos from deviantart.com)

A Cup of Coffee


“My coffee gets increasingly better the more I drink and the closer I come to the bottom of the cup, where all the sugar is. I wonder if life is the same way as we approach the end.” — Jarod Kintz

I look from a distance and think back the first days of this year. So much had changed since lighting those fireworks last January as a welcome tradition of the coming new year up to this moment lounging in a coffee shop with friends this December. Reading the quotes as written above, is life really comparable to a cup of coffee?

Gloria Jean’s Coffee
Place: Rizal St., Dagupan City, Pangasinan, Philippines
(Wifi zoned)




This coffee shop could well be like a little cradle of peace to those coffee enthuasists out there. With interior design that matches the color of nature and the smell of brewing coffee that surrounds the place as you enter the shop, it somehow creates a relaxing atmosphere to the customers making them feel cozy and at home (aside from the Christmas decors added to feel the spirit of Christmas).



Gloria Jean’s Coffee menu ranges from a variety of espressos/coffee, chillers, smoothies, cakes and pastries. Prices range from not less than 120 and not more than 180 Philippine peso. Customer-service is a thumbs up for the baristas, hands down for their patience as my friends and I think for a while (okay, for quite a while) of what we’re gonna have.

For those who haven’t been in this place, you should check it out.

Yes, life is like a cup of coffee. Despite the bitter taste at first sip, you will always find a sweet thing at the bottom of the cup. No matter how hard this year had been to you, there will always be something to be thankful for at the end of it.


Spread the spirit of giving and a Merry Christmas to all!





The French word for ‘lace’ with the definition of the Merriam’s Dictionary as

•an openwork usually figured fabric made of thread or yarn and used for trimmings, household coverings, and entire garments

•a cord or string used for drawing together two edges (as of a garment or a shoe)

Maybe you’ll be wondering why i chose this word as a blog name. Let me enlighten your why. Writing is creativity, with so many holes and patterns made by the writer using his own fingers and imagination. With writing, you will be able to express your messages and emotions to others, drawing them closer to you.

My blog could well be the story of my life and the lives of others, living and non-living. It could include just about everything — from creative writing to feature writing. The articles that you’ll be reading here are all special to me..they are my imaginary children/friends.

Everybody can call themselves as writers, but only a few can touch the hearts of others. (Pam)

Enjoy reading dear readers and continue sharpening your pens, fellow writers! 😸

(Photo credit: fabrickstockexchange.com and hitohi.com)