Today, I Turn Twenty-four

My Symphonies: Home / Day Wave

Wasting Time / Day Wave

Semi-rocking the guybun in 2016 (*Not a recent photo, thank god!).

So today, I turn twenty-four. 

I remember typing out almost the exact same words back in May 2013, when I wrote Today, I Turn Twenty. This time is different, though. When I turned 20, I felt a lot of uncertainty and discomfort towards aging. In fact, I used to be a self-proclaimed ageist. The mere thought of being a year older always made me feel nauseous and quite anxious. Every year, when I “celebrated” my birthday, I would always try to hide how upset I was with the fact that humans have to naturally age. I hated the concept of getting old.

But this year is different. For the first time, I actually feel very at peace with turning a year older. And not just that; I also feel very at peace with the fact that every year, everything and everyone else turns a year older. It is finally safe to say that I have come to terms with the way the world works – Things and people age; there’s nothing we can do about it.

I am writing today not just because it’s my birthday, but also because I want to acknowledge change. Change, who comes when it’s time for it to come. Change, who is the master of beauty and tragedy. Change, who is the initiator of bliss and chaos. And Change, who so effortlessly comes with aging.

When I think of my life from the beginning leading up to this point, I see it in chapters. And what’s great about chapters is that they tell us that apart from the end and the beginning of every book, there are tiny little ends and beginnings in between. And these little ends and little beginnings create something beautiful – something worth reading, worth telling and worth living. This has been my life:

The Childhood Years, when I first learned to take life one step at a time (literally); when I played in playgrounds and scratched my knee like every kid did; when I looked at grown-ups around me and wondered if I, one day, was also gonna be as big and as complex and as successful as they were; when life was a never-ending cycle of naps, tantrums, school, lunch boxes and Cartoon Network…

The High School Years, when I tackled so many things for the first time without much knowledge about life and the world I lived in; when I fell in love for the first time, got my heart broken for the first time, failed an exam for the first time, topped the class in something for the first time, made great friends and mortal enemies for the first time, and played in the field of teenage angst, romance, betrayal and overall drama for the first time; The High School Years was that one chapter that gave the first definite shape of my personality…

The University of the Philippines Years, which gets a special chapter due to the silent but steady impact it had on me. This chapter was when I learned that I can handle change (a major change) for the first time. I learned that simplicity doesn’t have to mean boring, and that modesty doesn’t have to mean defeat. I learned to take matters into my own hands, stand up for myself and carry on through the tough days without having to cry for help. This chapter was when I started to really genuinely appreciate sunsets, deep meaningful conversations and the importance of getting to know people outside of my shiny little bubble…

The Great Move, the chapter that tells of my move to Canada with my family. This, more than anything by far, has been the greatest teacher. This chapter was when I found myself in a world so different from where I grew up in. I learned so many things about other cultures especially when I was in Vancouver Film School. I learned so much about the sad realities of life, and how we all have a choice to bounce back from them. This was the chapter when I went through depression triggered by an unrequited love, and later on realized it was all just a lack of love for myself. I would say that without this chapter, I wouldn’t have been able to handle the next…

The Dark Ages, was a chapter that started out so magnificent, and so daring, and so adventure-filled and exciting. But I give it its chapter title due to the overall draining energy that surrounded it from the beginning, and more so towards the end. I fell in love with a guy that was ready to give me the world, but wasn’t ready to love me for who I am. I experienced physical abuse, verbal violence and worst of all, emotional manipulation. I learned that love isn’t enough – a relationship has to have friendship, compromises, acceptance and most importantly, respect. I learned that I am resilient, and that no matter what life was gonna throw my way after this chapter, I can absolutely handle it…

The Renaissance, cheesy, I know, but whoever said “There is light at the end of the tunnel” is hands down a genius. It’s true! Now I find myself in a place happier and brighter than anywhere I have ever been. I can definitely say that I am right where I am supposed to be in life right now, feeling exactly what I am supposed to be feeling at the moment, and being with the people whom I am most precisely supposed to be with at this chapter in my life. I am grateful for the genuine love I’ve found, blissful for the friends and family I have been blessed with, and ecstatic to take on the coming months and years of this journey called life…

I look at where I am today, and I realize that I should be happy about turning a year older. Turning a year older means I am still alive right now. I can still do whatever I want to do with my life, and go places, see new things, meet new people. Turning a year older means I have survived all the years before this; that I have embraced change time and time again, and that I have triumphed over obstacles and challenges that went my way.

Chapters. That word is subtly synonymous to “hope”, to “life”, to “change”. And today, I would like to celebrate turning a year older by thanking everyone in my life (literally EVERYONE, including those who are no longer a part of it in the present) for making me who and what I am today.

Because, girl, I’m slaying. ❤ ❤ ❤

I’m Going Home

My Symphony: Home by Daughtry
I don’t regret this life I chose for me,
But these places and these faces are getting old…


Maybe that’s the best part of going away for a vacation – coming home again. ― Madeleine L’Engle, Meet the Austins

This is it. In less than 24 hours, I’ll be on a plane back home. 

Damn. Typing that out just literally sent chills down my spine. There is something about the word “home” that is very powerful in a comforting way. And that’s what I am feeling right now – this almost indescribable feeling of danger and safety. It’s been a long time coming, and now here I am. My bags are all packed, and I am more than ready to go.

The weeks and the months that have led me to this moment hadn’t been smooth-sailing, though. There was a lot of stress, a lot of anxiety, a lot of reckless daydreaming and a lot of uphill battles with the people around me and with myself. But I have to say it was all worth it. We take every experience, big or small, and learn from it tremendously.

When I left the Philippines two and a half years ago, I left with one goal in mind: to find whatever it was that I was always looking for. Halfway through high school, I developed this irrepressible longing to leave – leave the city I’m in, leave the people I’m with, leave the life I live. My “past life” (for a lack of a better term) was byzantine, to say the least. I made a lot of mistakes, disappointed loved ones, broke my friends’ trust, caused a lot of emotional trouble and took for granted all the things and moments I now wish I could have back. And instead of facing the world and trying to repair the damaged, I decided to walk away and leave everything behind. And I did that because that’s what I had been wanting to do all along; I wanted to start over, strongly believing that there was another place out there for me which I could call home.

I was wrong. 

I think everybody should leave his or her hometown and go somewhere far at least once in his or her life. Not only is there a myriad of things and life lessons to learn Out There, Out There also makes you appreciate In Here, in a way no other place can. And to me, it’s been an exhilarating ride so far.

Everytime a friend or a family member asks me ,”So when are you visiting the Philippines?” or “Hey Kenn, are you going back here in Bacolod for a vacation soon?”, there’s always this part of me that cringes for some reason. It’s like my heart turns gray and my entire upper body shrinks, and all I want to do is run away screaming like a lunatic. I don’t know, I guess up until now I’ve never really accommodated “visiting the Philippines” as an acceptable oxymoron. Phrases like visit home and vacation in Bacolod sound disturbingly self-contradictory to me. So let us make one thing clear:

I’m not “going on a vacation”; I’m going home.

It’s as simple and as truthful and as accurate as that.

I look at Vancouver and the world that I’ve somehow built here for myself. I look at the bed I’ve been sleeping in for many months; I can see its edges and its weight take up a portion of the wooden floor. I look at our kitchen and then I look inside the refrigerator; I see a dozen eggs with one that’s broken, along with my brother’s sliced cheese which he always reminds us is expensive. I look at the living room; I look at the ceiling, my mom’s new carpet, the big red cushions and the television, which has started to look noticeably old despite its newness. I look inside my closet; I look at the big black bag in which I carefully stuffed all of my notes and physical memories from college. I look at my cat, Dunkley; I see him in the biggest and fattest he’s ever been; I see him groggily walk towards his favorite spot on one of our red-and-white dining chairs, and I see him yawn, stretch, stare devilishly into the air and lull himself back to sleep. And then I look at my pile of luggage sitting tall and proud in one corner of my room. For the first time in a long time, I feel like myself again.

This is why this chapter is very important to me. The farther I’ve been from home, the closer I’ve felt to it. And at these times when I often feel lost and unsure of who I’ve become, I find it crucial to go back to my roots and refresh things a little bit. The people I’ve met and the experiences I’ve had here have all been climactic, and I can never be grateful enough for the opportunity to get to know life and the world around me from such a different perspective. But the time has come. For at least the next two months, I will be in my hometown, the small city of Bacolod. For at least the next two months, I will be breathing a familiar air under a familiar sky. For at least the next two months, I will be storing my clothes and my books in a room inside a house which my feet and my heart have known since I was little. And for at least the next two months, I will be not here, but there.

And there is waiting.

See you soon. 

Broken Microphone

Growing up, I’ve gradually learned to walk away from nonsense and to stay away from debates as much as possible. I remember how I used to always speak up and even shout for what I believed in. I would not stop until I got my point across and until I made the other person give up and admit he’s wrong. But it got tiring. All of the arguments have started to seem trivial. I mean it is good to fight for what you perceive is right, but sometimes it’s just not necessary. There will always be people on your team and other ones who aren’t. All those quests for kindred souls just had to stop. Because no matter what, there are people in your life who understand you; who get you. People you don’t need to work so hard to connect to– you just click. These are the people you would want to keep for a lifetime. They are right there in your world. Just look closer. And when you finally rediscover who they are and where they’ve been sitting all along, sit with them… and never ever let them go.

Coloring the Night Sky Monochromatic Yellow

My Symphony: The Resolution by Jack’s Mannequin


I saw sparks, then I saw a better year ahead.

I never believed in New Year. I never viewed the concept of January 1 as a fresh start. I’d always been skeptical about the manifestation of a new year as a new beginning for some people; however, I came to a point of finally trusting the traditional New Year’s Resolution.

As far as I can remember, when my Social Studies teacher back in Sophomore High asked the class to make a resolution for the new year, I hastily wrote a very non-conforming one-statement essay:

“I will no longer make New Year’s Resolution”.

Three years later, things have been very drastic and emotional that I’ve decided to write a string of promises to myself— promises I’ll try my very best to keep. Without further ado, I present to you my first-ever New Year’s Resolution.


1. No more wild yet lame parties.

[I feel like I’ve outgrown them already]

2. No more fast food chains.

[Including you, Ronald. My system deserves more than the frozen unhealthy treats you offer. I deserve REAL FOOD! ]

3. No more FAKE stuff.

[Which means “goodbye Zagu, goodbye Cheese Curls, goodbye hotdogs and definitely goodbye canned products!”]

4. No more FAKE people.

[Enough trying to be friends with the people I know for myself I’ll never get along with; enough pretending to be innocent when I know all along who’s authentic and who’s plastic; enough playing the Mr. Nice Guy, because I know I never were, and I never will be]

5. No more trying to fit in.

[What is there to blend with in this world, anyway? Most especially, what is there to blend with in this city at all?]

6. No more talking to the people in the PAST.

[What for? It’s OVER. Said and done. They’re all just part of history]

7. A tighter grip to the people in the PRESENT.

[I love you, guys! 🙂 ]

8. A breath-taking and a groundbreaking anticipation of the people in the FUTURE.

[I am just sooo excited to finally meet and greet the people who are yet to make the ride worthwhile]


[Which means goodbye to the majority of my High School “friends” and to the lame ex-lovers who weren’t good enough to make it to my future]

10.  More LOVE. Less lust.

[Enough said. 🙂 ]


– I no longer care about the crap other people make as long as they don’t mess up with my happiness.

– I no longer care if some infamous people still hate me up until now. Like I said, haters only hate the people they can’t have or the people they can’t be. 🙂

– I no longer care if some people think I’m not good enough, because quite frankly, I know I am, and I don’t need a witness to know I HAVE IT. :p

– I no longer care if I only have very few friends right now. At least, they’re TRUE, and it’s not like having few great friends is a bad thing. As a matter of fact, I feel like this is part of fate. Less people in my life= more space for BETTER ones to come. 🙂

– I no longer care if the life I am living now isn’t what I expected when I was in High School. Honestly, I love this life more and more each day. I couldn’t be more grateful.

– Most especially, I no longer fear what tomorrow brings. There’s nothing to fear. I am only purely EXCITED.

bottom line: This year, I WILL BE TOO BUSY AND TOO HAPPY TO CARE. :p

So there you have it, people. MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION. :))

Being Here Isn’t Being There

My Symphony: In The End by Linkin Park

Life is a moving staircase. There’s no doubt about that.

I just suddenly felt like updating my blog after many weeks of being “away”. I don’t know why, but more than half of the population here in UPV is probably made up of teenagers who are right now cramming for exams and projects, and here I am… deliberately distancing myself from the pressures of college life. I have my Soc Sci 1 exam tomorrow and a 15-page paper to panic about, not to mention that life here has basically been full of hell weeks since day one. But I guess there will always be a certain time when I really want to say “I don’t care”. This brings me to what I really want to talk to you about today—how different UP really is than other schools.

Well maybe I don’t have the most credible thoughts about this, for I have spent mere 5 months in this university. But even so, getting through a semester in this premier educational kingdom alive is not as easy as rhymes and riddles. Being here, actually, gives me more than just headaches and stress. It also gives me a chance to reflect about what being here means and how different being HERE is to being THERE.

Modesty aside, I honestly felt like I was a cream of the crop when I was in high school. I know, I know. I hadn’t been successful in making my way to the “Academic Honors List”, but I have to say that I wasn’t just another face in the crowd. I had a name back then—a name which when other people hear, would automatically flash my visage onto their mental fragments. I was known by both the upper and lower years and by the faculty. I joined a great number of competitions, and I was able to make a name for myself. I actually consider my high school life as something which is “perfect”. I had a set of friends I’m completely comfortable with, a report card which isn’t that bad (it’s actually pretty good except for the Math and Physics part), a home which is only 10 minutes away from school, an ATM in the form of my parents and a generally carefree life. I used to think it would always be that way. I was wrong.

When I entered UP, I wasn’t really sure of anything at all. I’ve gone through a lot of stress and anxiety or even regret and anger. UP life wasn’t, or let’s just say isn’t, my choice (anymore). And maybe it’s true when they say that once you are caught into something you don’t really want for yourself, you will realize and learn a lot of things. I believe I have already shared with you a generous amount of what I learned here. Still, I haven’t said another thing I never thought I would learn in my whole life:

I learned that if you used to be one of the kings or princes in high school, once you get your ass here in UP, you will find yourself dwelling with all the other peasants who are, like yourself, crawling for a passing grade.

If in other schools and colleges students complain about how their 1.2 turned 1.6 by midterms, here in UP, people would die of happiness if they could once they get a passing grade of 3 or, believe it or not, even just an INC (incomplete) mark of 4. I hear students here saying “Nung high school ako feeling ko talaga ang tali-talino ko. Ngayon sa tingin ko parang ang bobo bobo ko na”.

Aah. Yes. A statement of extreme self-esteem degradation hidden in a facade of self-pity and an anxious wonder.

Well no one can blame any UP student for sharing such thought. I mean, even the subjects I thought were super easy turned out to be monsters here. Trust me. Here, it doesn’t matter what course you take. All the students here are given equal share of hardships and pains, whether they are engineering students or literature students. No one is exempted from the wrath of stress and pressure here.

I can actually puke when I look at my exam scores here. But enough ranting. This is reality—a reality which was unfortunately bestowed upon me.

Surely, a lot of 3’s, 4’s and a DROPPED remark will appear in my copy of grades.

Damn. I know college isn’t the only way to success, but I’m in this crazy world of schooling already. It’s like a cycle of stress. Everyday you deal with teachers and mad academic endeavors. You wake up, rush your way to school, sit, listen, take tests, get either satisfied or disappointed and go home with either a smile or a tear on your face (exaggeration applied). You see my point? I know some of you don’t. But I see my point every second of the day. This is an eccentric circus where only the beauty of learning keeps me from getting out. I only want learning and not schooling. I don’t think the latter bears the same degree of importance than genuine education.

The Dawn of the Dancing Lions

My Symphonies: Bedshaped by Keane
Chances by Five For Fighting
Say by One Republic

It’s been about three months and three weeks since my graduation day in high school. I was there, in the university gymnasium of my Catholic school, marching my way up and down the stage with high hopes for new and sweet beginnings. With these hopes come my knowledge that some things would have to end in order for other things to begin. As Paulo Coelho said in the “Closing Cycles”, nothing is irreplaceable. And yes, I used to really think that this was a lie– a propaganda. I used to believe that many things in my life cannot be replaced or substituted. Well, little did I know that I knew way less than I know now. So here I am, shocked by the fact that I am actually writing about what’s going on with my life after more than a season of being in silence and anxiety.

This is the part where I tell it all…

Yesterday I decided to go back to Bacolod. Now what is so special about that, you may ask. Well, I never really thought of going home before August 24. The original plan was that I’ll go home for my grandmother’s 75th Birthday which will be celebrated on that particular day. But I guess fate found a way for me to be in this place unexpectedly to see what I wasn’t able to see for the past sixteen years of my life.

So we all know that my life here in the City of Smiles theoretically ended since the very day I stood on the grounds of Miami (or Miag-ao, for a more “honest” term). For everyone else who doesn’t know yet, after many weeks of frustration, anger, fears and tantrums, I landed in the University of the Philippines- Visayas. I am taking up BA Communication and Media Studies. Currently, I live in a dormitory, which is a place with no housemaid, no air conditioning system, no wide and comfy bed, no parents, no personal refrigerator, no pets, no cable television, no telephone, no DVD player, no door locks and definitely no privacy. Basically, I am now living a life which is so different from the one I used to live a few months back. And I have to tell you that this whole experience is a gradually life-changing process.

A life-changing process. But I have to be honest with you and to myself. I used to really hate the kind of life I deliberately chose– the dorm life, the UP life, the rural-area living and the eerie and idyllic atmosphere I am in lately. I used to really hate Miag-ao. It is a hundred times opposite to my hometown. There are no malls, bars, fast food chains, theaters, express ways and fancy restaurants where I usually relieved my stress and vanished my madness. Miag-ao is a place which holds a mysterious silence– a mysterious yet interesting silence. And as I continue living the “silent life” in this place, I am occasionally finding meaning to all of this.

And as I walked on the old grounds of Bacolod last night, I felt some kind of a slap on my face. It was only just last night when I realized why Bacolod is so so different from Iloilo. Both places are actually dubbed as “Twin Towns”, but I beg to disagree.

Everyone who has seen me grow up through the years knows how much I love Bacolod and how much I treasure the moments I have shared with countless people in that place. This is the place where I learned my ABC’s, my 123’s and this is also the place where I learned most of my firsts: my first love, my first kiss, my first taste of alcohol, my first barkada, my first drunken night, my first fall and my first rising up again. So now I say that Bacolod has been my primary training ground. This is where I first learned the basics of life. Bacolod, in fact, had been my one and only love. But honestly, I fell out of love with that place already.

Sure it’s still as wonderful as it was before. There’s still the famous Lagoon, the dazzling Lacson Streets, the gigantic Robinson’s Place, the traditional Central Market and Plaza Mart, the recreational Reclamataion and Bredco, the busy North Drive and the different barangays that make up my Birthplace. Bacolod is still the same after months of being away from here. It’s still the same; but the people aren’t.

Sometimes I think of what could’ve happened if I decided to stay in that place; if I decided to be one of those greenies in La Salle, or the excellent people in UNO-R; if I decided to stay in my house, on my bed, living the same life all over again. Do you know what the product of my constant thinking is? A blur. A blur, simply because I choose not to see the outcome in a clear perception. And I no longer am interested in knowing anything about even just a bit of information about that place and most especially, about the people in it. It’s like college really has its unstoppable ways of changing things and people so drastically. Yes, change is inevitable. But it’s just so sad that some people change not for the better, but for the freaking worse.

And now all I see when I visited my hometown was a crib of babies who are either sleeping or drinking milk from a container which spills more than it contains, and I can do no more than just choke before such scene of an unfortunate serendipity.

I also have to say that despite the fact that my hometown is fast becoming a crib, I still long to visit a few loved ones back there: my family, my pets and a few good friends.

I guess life really gets better once you’ve trashed things which are no longer crucial to your existence– things which diminish bliss and bring down improvement.

Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means taking some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. — Paulo Coelho (once again)

Now I am seeing a brighter horizon. 🙂

Confessions of a Metamorphosing Earthling

My Tune: Lost in Space by Lighthouse Family

I always thought it’s never healthy to just stay in a little delicate bubble of a certain distinction all the time. I came to realize that sometimes, failing to discover the “out there” may leave a man fast becoming a dying species.

For the past week, I gave myself enough time to further analyze the goings-on in my life as a mere 16 year-old boy. As I was critically observing things and people, it suddenly sank in to me that looking back, I was deliberately living in an abstract quarantine or some sort of an isolation zone. I’m pretty sure you find this fact weird or even something which is badly unbelievable because foremost, everyone knows how I am such a social being. I mean, I am in fact a monophobic person— the one who fears being alone or being lonely. So how, then, can an ultimately socialite earthling like myself ever say that he lives in an “isolation zone”? I’ll tell you…

Honestly, I am not really the type who is generally flexible. I admit I don’t know how to do some things which other people expect any other people to know. Vague, ei? I say, I don’t know how to fry a fish, to handle extreme construction or destruction tools such as a saw, T-square, axe, welders, rivet guns, jigs or trowels, to sew, wash and iron my clothes, and to fix broken material things such as a cracked wooden table or a withering arm chair. These are the things or the activities in which my skills don’t really work that well. Furthermore, there are also a lot of things which I don’t really indulge myself into. For example, I’m not one of those people who dip their fried chicken in random mixes such as ketchup or tomato sauce, Mang Tomas or Mozzarella cheese. I mean, when it comes to dips, I only fancy the gentle gravy, and nothing else except for those whose names I didn’t quite get. Although I am a “vegetable person”, there are still a few of those green leafy stuff which my tongue had never fallen in love with. Some of these are the bitter amargoso, ampalaya and fried talong (eggplant). I also don’t fancy eating famous Filipino recipes like Inasal na manok, Lechon manok, Pancit canton (especially the instant ones), Bihon, Dinuguan, Valenciana and even the well-advertised Breaded Prok Chop. Even when it comes to clothing, I tend to limit myself deliberately. I noticed that I never wear hats or caps. I also don’t wear baggy shorts and pants unlike the other teenagers. I can see that I am a fan of flashy colors such as silver, gold and metallic primary shades, but a hater of orange, turquoise and most especially, pink. I don’t know, but I really really hate pink. Haha. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.

Digging in deeper, I am not a fan of Chuck Taylor nor am I a fan of Chuck Taylor shoes themselves. Unlike the usual teenage group, I despise Converse shoes especially the high-cut ones. I also hate Havaianas slippers and flip-flops although I own a couple of pairs of ’em. It’s because of the fact that its pricey cost is getting shallow and severely commercialized. I have a long list, but this will be the last one: I do not like wearing t-shirts or jackets which say “Parental Guidance”, “F*ck You”, or some tees splattered with bloody canvas and a vast design that gives the impression of being an emo.

Academically, I hate Math and Science (and there’s no question about that). In school, subjects that require a huge amount of patience such as Drafting and Bookkeeping, don’t really top my Nice List this Christmas, and in all the other holidays to come.

See? I told you I’m cynically limited. Sigh. I’m going to explode herein again. Here I go…

Despite the fact that I’m naturally living in my own little bubble of safety and convenience, I have been gradually adjusting myself to many things lately. I can in fact say that I am now undergoing the first stage of a metamorphosis. I can say that what I really want to do right now is to finally put into practice what I myself have preached for so many years already— that there’s the whole world out there; that there’s no reason for us to stay stuck in the same place, the same ways, for there is more to life than what our eyes usually meet. It is indeed true that life is half spent before you get to know what it really is. The same thing is true with the statement that clearly, life is a long run— a runway with a limelight— where we are deemed to serenade with all our wits and assets. What’s the point of sticking to the status quo? I mean, come on! No one wants to get left behind idolizing Nora Aunor or Vilma Santos forever when in fact, here we have today the glamorous Megan Fox and Anne Hathaway. The point here is, it’s never healthy to embrace the same things over and over and over again. Having had said this, I would also like to stress that letting oneself be hunted by his past is something which may actually murder him and his heart at one.

Have you ever realized how uncool it is to always be in the usual or in the norm?

I vowed to myself that one of these days, I’ll be the versatile one, the flexible one, the universal one. About seven days from now, I can see myself as someone who has gone out of his cocoon after a remarkable metamorphosis. I can see myself as someone who handles hammer and nails, someone who fries fish, eats amargoso and Inasal na Manok without hesitations, learns to wear hats whenever needed and as someone who has finally sought the greater grounds of life by discovering the so-called The Out There.

A new place. A new hope. A new wardrobe. A new love. A new life…

I will become the better version of me.

Post Script…

Embracing new things is like embracing a long-lost friend or loved one. Although you’ve been with this person for a long time previously, it will always become hard to remember how a hug feels like until the time you meet again. Like embracing a long-lost loved one, appreciating new things gives one’s heart a priceless joy and contentment, for in that particular moment that he finds something or someone new, he would naturally feel that this thing or person is the one he has been looking for all along.

… Let us all become agents of transformation. =)