Photographs and Memories

First of all, I would like to apologize sincerely to the melancholics reading this now. Tears run down your cheeks seeing the title of this post, reminding you of your incessant love to Jim Croce.

Let me start. Last Sunday, me and my sister Christine, had the chance to check our old photos stored "inside" the vintage TV we had at home. Yes, inside.. We got all the "intestines" of the TV, and used it as a shelf of photos, albums, and books.

It was an idea that just popped out my mind that moment, thinking maybe, photos could remind me how I metamorphosed from being innocent to violent. Here's what I have found:

The oldest photo I ever have is this. I was a year old.

My Mother, Rosalinda, had alot of stories to tell about this photo. When I was this small, I knew my mother almost regret why I was born. That is because she lived a zombie life. I had the most unceasing cry in the entire town, both my parents don't know what to do. They wished sleeping pills exists dominantly back then. Throwing me out of the house must have crossed their minds... That, I bet. Hahaha.


Obviously, The girl at my back is Christine Aba. The date to which this photo was taken remains unknown. Looking at the photo above, I can see only a few things have changed. hahaha.


I'd like to comment about something I figured out to this photo to the other before it. There's a similarity between them: My sister is always at my back. Up to now, she really is, always.

Finally... to end this photo blog, here's the most hideous-looking photo I EVER had - I have seen a MOSTEEER. The photo was taken during kindergarten years, where joining Sinulog de Tanjay (now Saulog de Tanjay) is never an option - it's mandatory. To move up to first grader, you have to look like this:

Thanks Holiness, passing college isn't as hard as doing this. If it was, I wish I died.

'Till next time, people. Thanks for dropping by CupAvenue.