While transferring old journal entries into blogger, as well as skimming through them, I’ve realized why I started composing these overdramatic accounts of… life(?) in the first place. These are more like (sub)conscious “letters to you” than intentional “notes to self”. I’m not complaining though, because with every bitter-infused word I re-read, I can’t help but smile because I feel exactly opposite. And with every love-filled compliment, I hope you know that each one is true and genuine and heartfelt; even until now. Oh, that Katrina Alaia Garcia Tuason. It’s been a while since you’ve been written about in here. In a good way. Vague-ness(?) is so 2-3 years ago. This is for Katrina Alaia.