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I haven’t been writing lately. Writing was a way for me to let go; to ink away piece by piece the memories that I cling on to, until there is nothing left to weigh me down. And in this space I call my own, I have always been writing about myself and little about anyone else. As much as solitude comforts me, my life does not consist of my own self; it is intertwined and shaped by the people I meet during this journey. Continue reading