“I’m Not Wise At All. I Told You, I Know Nothing. I Know Books, And I Know How To String Words Together—it

“I’m going to go on a grand adventure someday, this I promise myself. I’m going to see places where I’d appreciate the aesthetic beauty of life and feel so exhilaratingly lost in the process. I’m going to meet people who have different ways of existing, being, and loving that I might be able to appreciate mine more. I’m going to write letters to friends and family at home telling them I miss them while I’m starting to figure out who I am, what I love, and where in my heart is the place where there’s nothing but faith in being capable in doing my best with having a life well-lived. And I hope whoever I have become when I decide to hop inside the car, explore the open road and drive back to the city will be enough to make me see things for the better.”

— Juansen Dizon, A Grand Adventure

poem: learning to listen to your voice

i have not been writing much lately,

for i feel i do not possess the “right” words to say,

and i have been tossing more poems

than i have been finishing—

i am learning that

sometimes not saying anything

is better than saying something

empty—

so i have spent nights sitting,

paying attention to the silence

despite the hundreds of distractions

begging to break the stillness

on account of their desire to be

constantly moving—

yet, i do not want to be the one always speaking,

acting as if i deserve that kind of authority,

just because i want so desperately to avoid

doing nothing—

i have not been writing much lately,

but i am not doing nothing;

in fact,

i am finally learning to listen.

-j.g. edge

Oh my god i love the moon!! I can't believe she's just out there, floating!! And it's free for us to look at her!!! We can just open the window and she's there!! Looking over us! She's a mother, a daughter, a lover, a secret-keeper, and so much more!!!

poem: if words could find my soulmate

if words could find my soulmate—

oh how much happier

my poems would be;

the stanzas would dance,

the words would flow into verses of song,

they’d be brighter,

they’d be happier;

but alas,

no one wants the girl who sits in the back,

no one wants the poet who is

more alive in her journal than in the world;

but if only my words could find my soulmate,

maybe they’d be content,

because they wouldn’t be alone

anymore.

-j.g. edge

blood on women is sexy if it’s someone else’s. blood on men is sexy if it’s theirs. hope this helps.

Write about butterflies, write about your morning, write about the cup of chai you had, write about your crush that doesn't text you back. Write anything you love or colur like red and blue, cus eventually that will be yours, the true you

romance? like in those hozier songs? you know that’s not real, right?

Was watching the most diabolical Hannibal scenes and my mum kept humming along to the violin while making jam in the kitchen. Duality of man

i’m a hopeless romantic with all these ideal scenarios in my head but i’m also terrified of falling in love and trusting someone new.