A message to rent

Hi, webkin. You are allowed to inhabit this thought-space free of charge. While I, myself, literally, Lila, rents a space inside this laptop, my fingers paying for every keyboard use.  Rent has made the worse out of the living. A predator in camouflage under another name. The space I fill this world is a commodity, devoid of value. I dream of finding a sliver of reality where I could freely call a piece of land, home.  Yeah, yeah, we live in a materialistic world with a capital C written to its core. I am reminded of this fact 24 hours a day in the form of an alarm clock. And this fact has somehow eaten up all that is left of every one's belief that the best things in life are free. But what do we need the best for when even the things we need are not for free? This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This space is for rent. This spa

I wish to dream, but I'm not a song

My dears. The past few months were all rocks and thorns. The skies saw a land on fire. The nights listened to silent babies.  It's like little people's dreams got stuck in a nightmare, and there's no return ticket to a better day. Voices echoed across the globe, but dark clouds intercepted them mid-air. I wish I were a SONG. It used to be a DREAM of mine.  Literally ❝ Lila

To the scam of the earth

You are not dear, scam.  You are the hideous face of modern technology — the face we'd love to punch.  I hope you are enjoying your daily plate of BS.  I hope your antics to suck dry poor people's sweat and blood behind their backs are worth earning the daily headlines. We, the little people, would appreciate it if you would aim for your own tail next time and spare us from your crooked agenda. Seriously.  yOuR sCaMmiNG sPRee sHoULd eNd sOon.  Literally ❝ Lila

News stabs editor as readers stare blankly

Hello, webkin. Here's a breaking news. Today, a news report grabbed a bread knife and attacked a journalist online while eyewitnesses stood by looking. According to news sources, the injuries were not that bad, we're just biased. The victim was sent to oblivion while the suspect is still on the loose. A police report was filed against the suspect. The online police urged the public to remain vigilant nowadays because news sites can sometimes go bad and forget their purpose. In fact, these sites just made this thing up. No one got stabbed, and there are no readers anymore. In other stories, what could be worse than reading the news? Editing it.  Literally ❝ Lila

Went AWOL, didn't tell many

Dear webkin, Did you miss me? Did you try to find me? Did you see me from nowhere? Will you ever answer back now that I'm back? Is that you on the other side? I have de-webbed myself, you see. I tried searching for one pair of sock once⸺couple of times.  It turned out it was trying to find me.  It was inside the laundry basket. A disappearance. Getting lost. Gone. Pop. Retreat. Begone.  Insert other missing synonyms here.   It's the sole rule of hide-and-seek.  I hear you.  You don't see me. Literally ❝ Lila

Living on the edge of the pasture

Dear webkin, A long line of peoples in handcuffs and lost hopes paraded the streets lately. The power that be couldn't wait to fend them off, back to where they should belong.  For them it's spring cleaning.  They are obsessed with the habit of throwing away what they thought they didn't need. It's a deep-seated belief that someone else's mother, sister, brother, father, cousin, friend, grandpa, grandma, aunt, and uncle are disposables in the face of abundance.   In this wasteland.   Literally ❝ Lila

The amnesia of an "ex-dreamer"

Hey, webkin. It's been a while. The past weeks had me running like a roadrunner. I was LITERALLY in full hectic mode. You may think I'm complaining, or that this is the price I pay for seeking a little comfort. But you'd be surprised to know the reason runs deeper than your sceptic tank. You heard me right. It smells foul, too. All this hectic-ness and comfortless-ness are a true tale as aged as time, so to speak. In fact, it runs in the blood of those who genuinely fought for true comfort; some of which were forgotten by history books. But these efforts don't really matter to pseudo-revolutionaries. I bet the last thing they want is smell forget-me-nots when the ghosts of those who genuinely fought for their right to vote or right to have fun is lurking nearby.  These ex-dreamers' stories of showing up merely for hedonistic reasons stink, and thus, deserve to be forgotten. Literally ❝ Lila   

The nightmare of insomnia

hELLo, wEbKin.  I love sleeping. In fact, napping is my favorite past time. If I could I would nap with my eyes wide open so that I could see who is having a good laugh watching. At times, I would stay awake overnight even when not touching coffee for days. So, I couldn't fully blame this beany drink for the predicament it had inflicted on me. In fact, no one dares blame whoever weaponized coffee, at all. It's no easy task trying not to rely on sleeping pills either; I rarely pray to conventional medicine for my salvation.  Insomnia can be a nightmare especially when I needed to get up for work or for an early appointment. It makes you feel like a floating ghost all day long. It gives you a glimpse of the back of people's head for the first time, unto the darkest corner of their subconscious, watch them secretly scheme against the rat race. It makes you hear colleagues talk about your worn out face behind you. Honestly, it makes you feel like you have suddenly acquired some

Welcome confusion to department of the

Webkin dear, I are know busy you. Alright it's. All busy we are. Main it's our job. Fact in, experts are all we this field in. Busy more, hunger less.  People are other specialized more. Paid they get for it. Enter offices their and a ride in you're for. Advice if you're looking for out me hear. Have they all of the making a salad fruit. Job main their is stuff to jumble up. To late too realise are that you in a trials and errors a rollercoaster of. Require the paperwork is they a big to jigsaw puzzle, too. Studied they of Science Bachelor in Major Chaos. So time next, the mess expect, tea breaks the half-day. Show impatience never. It's Offense Civil in a Confusion the Department of. Lila speaking ❝ Literally

Opening a can of potatoes

Heeeey, webkin! Are you awake? I'm asking because I just got up from a few years of being idle. My mind had become steel-hard stagnant, holding on to a place that didn't let me explore it.  L I T E R A L L Y Now, I'm opening up to a completely new world, the one I knew so well but had always evaded knowing I'm entering a chaotic world again. It's the world I'd already left behind. Getting back to editing the paper again was not an easy decision. I had to fight through personal preferences and current status in life. After the lockdowns, everything stood still. It's time to open the can again. Literally ❝  Lila  

Painting the world with words

Dear webkin, I am constantly thinking about how you're coping in this urban wilderness. I sincerely hope you're in a better place.  Life is one big distraction, above all else. Paint a line and the toddler calls for the nth time. Scribble a word, Whatsapp pulls a prank on you. When we all thought we've started playing the music, the sirens turn off. The followers bear arms to take down the throne. And leaders bury themselves in wealth.   The rest of us fart race, as usual.  But we keep doing what we do, routinely distracting ourselves, and we do it all at once. Oftentimes, I paint my thoughts with colorful words. I guess that's how I make myself feel better.   Or the world must have slowly faded in my eyes.  Literally ❝ Lila

A generation that reads more

Hello, webkin. Me again. Firstly, it means a lot to me that you're reading my letters. Things took a bizarre turn after the pandemic. Everyone had gone back to being cold again, maybe even colder. Lawyers are now more aggressive than telemarketers. Landlords have never been more predatory. Governments have become the penultimate trolls in all of human history.    ✔ And ✔ the ✔ list ✔ goes ✔ on ✔ and ✔ on.   But there is one thing that caught my attention. People read more than ever, with an estimated screen time of more than five hours and thirty minutes a day. Everyone reads everyone.  ✔ How many movies we watch a week.  ✔  What music we are listening to. ✔ Where we can buy children's cough syrup. ✔ Who greeted who on their birthday. ✔ What crucial thought we have at the moment. ✔ The kitchen is burning. ✔ Pineapple-flavored pizza. ✔ Spam galore. ✔ FYI DIY IRL. ✔ Recipes for the gods. ✔ You name it.    YOU are the whole story.   Literally ❝ Lila   

In looking out

Dear webkin, I hope you're having enough relax time and self-care lately. You could always open up to me if you feel like it. When people talk about their personal experiences, I tend to share my own highs and lows hoping that, somehow, they can relate to mine. I do this instead of fueling their story by asking them loads of questions. I do this not because I wanted to talk more about myself or I wasn't listening.   Seriously.   People should stop being too judgmental.  I feel like I don't have any right to say I could fully understand what's happening nor I feel how they're feeling. I hardly assume about what's going on in other people's lives even when I thought I knew at some point. As long as we are able to communicate our thoughts and feelings, we are all good. That's all that matters. Literally ❝   Lila

The home of my mind

Dear webkin, How are you faring in this digital city? After over fifteen years of living in this bleak corner, among the walking dead, I remain an outsider. A transient with neither a shadow to boast of nor possession to uphold my dignity. I am a disposable asset that was given an ID. ✔ Education is stolen learning. ✔ Labor is oppressive of work. ✔ Privacy is an inside joke. ✔ Home is unwelcome. My temporary shelter is comfort in the form of a prison cell. In my sleeplessness, I dream of somebody to take me to their home planet. After all, nothing in my skin could prove I am worthy of a place in this vanity box they call "home".  ✔ My home lives elsewhere .  Literally ❝ Lila

An everyday holiday

Heeey, webkin. Today appears to be another day. Tomorrow, another. Everyday is another day. I once believed that each day is a different day. But, alas, it's always another day.        Still there? The best day is the holiday — any holiday. Holidays bring people together to celebrate old habits or preserve established beliefs. Some holidays offer free dining, while some temporarily make friends of enemies. Several holidays make people generous or kind, even for a few days. Maybe that's why they are rare. I dream of special holidays. E v e r y d a y Literally ❝ Lila

The plague of the past...and present

Heeey, webkin.   How are you doing today? I hope you're feeling better. I mean, better than the past two years at least. I had to know, had the plague really gone AWOL? Have we truly moved on to finding a new pasture? Deep down inside, I feel like my mind had contracted diseases that are unknown to modern science, or modern human for that matter.  It's borderline hypochondriac, if you ask me. If I get the chance to live a few universes away I'd be pirouetting my butt in search of another me just to invalidate this delusion.  What are the odds that I'd find another me who is immune not only to viral outbreaks but also to our current society? If you ask me, I bet coronavirus cases are nothing compared to the number of people lining up to visit their psychotherapists these past years.   I'm guessing our ails will take centuries to cure, if at all. That is, if we actually acknowledge the real disease that is killing us from the inside.  Literally ❝ Lila

Coffee is my ticket to dreamland

Dear webkin, Don't get me wrong. As far as my daily nightshift is concerned, my dreamland is far from the sleep everyone is craving for. It is nothing more than just a few waking hours of thinking about things I hardly even think about when I'm awake, as I sip my blackest of coffees. Basking under the sun. Frolicking in the white sand of some famous beach resort. Walking down the streets guilt-free of my sweets-filled tummy. I dream of staying awake to keep myself from drifting off this dream-like state I'm in right now.  But, alas, I'm right here staring back at the half-blank page of this letter, half-cup of coffee in my hand, trying to fill it with entertaining thoughts, umm, I mean the letter, while hardly dwelling on the limits of SEO and stuff like that.  I always rely on a cup of coffee to take me to this joyride I cOuLd NeVer TaG mY faMiLy or friends along. As I chug in the rest of the coffee I realized that I needed to capture and seal this moment on this page.

Give breadwinners a break, k?

Heeey, webkin. I just want you to know that I'm a breadwinner. As you may know, we, breadwinners, come in different shapes and sizes. Not all parents are breadwinners. Eldest children can be breadwinners, too. But we all have one thing in common, we're hardly noticed for our worth. Sniffles. And lately, responsibilities seem to pile up on our shoulders, the world had just made our loads even heavier. And we can't help but think about breaking away from all of these hardships at some point. Luckily, we are also good at rising above the storm.  So from this day onwards, I unapologetically declare the month of June, Breadwinners' Month!  But seriously, it's time to cut us breadwinners some slack.  Let's celebrate a Breadwinner's Day. TaKe Us To ThE lAtEsT, nOn-BaNnEd, mArVeL mOvIeS. Cover our expenses for a month. Buy us a box's worth of goodies and freebies. Turn our hardened up faces into a happy clam.   And above all, give us a breather. We deserve it, a

Literal Lila

 Heeey, webkin.  I'm now literally and officially sealing my webkinship with you for opening my letter, o k ? I've often wondered why I write, about my inner storms and stuff—and cats. Maybe I want to befriend the world. Maybe I want to live forever. Maybe I want to get back at people. Or maybe I just couldn't quiet my mind. It speaks to me day and night, urging me to expose life as I see it. I must be hearing voices. 😨 Kidding aside. I want to write about the sun when it chased the moon. How many homes the beaver had rented. If emojis have had names, at all. Not to worry. There's literally nothing figurative to read here other than my uniformly randomized thoughts. Btw, do shower thoughts get wet? AsKiNg FoR a FrIeNd. Srly, I'll talk to you soon. Copyrighted June 2022, Literally ❝ Lila