And it makes me a dull girl.

At 6 AM today, I remember my late friend Henriette, the few other people I no longer have, and a part of me that feels to have gone with every loss.

My smart mouth, the opinionated girl, the randomness and spontaneity, yung maarte, free-spirited, free. The girl who blurts out, unfiltered, unprocessed, raw, unaffected, yet very much affected. Baliw. The one who’s always misunderstood and won’t bother explaining herself.

I want to talk about algebra, but I’m stuck in arithmetic.

I want to touch base.