It's another Monday morning and I've counted down to five weeks since. My journal is almost finishing its few hundred pages with words, sketches and random outbursts. My mind is muddled, still - Sometimes chaotically so, with my thoughts and emotions. Though I do welcome it at times, because it reminds me of what matters most to me and that to make it through this, I've to continue living with hopes that when I get out from all this: I'll see the smile and receive the embrace I much desire for.

Though as of now, I'm alone (as usual) to my thoughts with loose sheets of notes. Interestingly enough, these are notes I've penned down and scribbled over the period of three years. They chart journeys past, journeys that should've been and finally, journeys that are to be.

I guess I'll forever continue to do what I love best: traveling and writing. Although honestly, I've only been having the latter these days. In my loose papers, I've charts to faraway places that I'd venture to my car or train because let's face it - Nothing beats a road-trip adventure.

Perhaps one of these days, I'll show you those loose notes. Because these are journeys I'd love to go on with you. But I notice I've been using that word a lot, haven't I? One day. Gives me hope that it'll happen - And frankly, we all need that.

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