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It's nearing midnight, and I'm sitting in front of the computer screen in the darkness, empty bowl of ramen and a half-finished cup of milk to keep me company. Common sense dictates that I should be asleep right now, homework finished, books packed, dreaming the night away.

But obviously I'm not, and I'm wasting away the minutes wracking my brain for something to write in this new journal. Granted, this isn't my first journal, and I'd had my share of journals over the years... But somehow, this new one seems to rob me of everything I want to say or think. And as I type this, right now... nothing comes to mind.

I would have given up a long time ago, if this was simply a spur of the moment decision to make the first post in my journal. But it's not. I think it's much different.

For the past few days, I've been experiencing the distinct feeling of having something profound and special to say, but no way to deliver it. It's that feeling I get when I have an empty piece of paper in front of me. As an artist, I don't care what I have in my hand- pen, pencil, charred remains of a flimsy toothpick- if it can draw, then that's what I want to do.

That's also how writing is. It's an art, and a subtle way to reach people. I want to put my heart into it. I want to say something important. I want to be profound, insightful and thought provoking. But I guess that's where I'm stuck. Before I delve into that urgent need to get a message across ... I have to have something to say first.

And generally, I've found that the more one experiences one has, the more one learns. The more one learns, the more one has to say.

That's what I want. But I guess maybe, I really do have a lot to say and I don't know it. Whether or not I can really pour my heart out into a certain cause, there are deeper matters that hit closer to home. And those much more precious than any cause I can stand up for.

Like the simple feelings I have now?

I miss my cousin, Tito Tate. I want him to come visit us again so we can have those long talks into the night. I want to watch more sunsets with him. I want to go downstairs and play video games with my Kuya. My brother. I want him to ask me to come downstairs to watch a movie, even though we have school tomorrow. I want to learn how to play the guitar and sing to my best friend. I want to tell her how much she means to me and that I will never forget her, even after we graduate. I want to tell my mother I don't hate her. I want to tell her that I love it when she bothers me, even when I don't feel like it at the moment. I want to tell my sister that I hate our talks, but if someone asked me if I could go back and erase them, I wouldn't. I want to tell my father, I don't know who he is, but I'm willing to find out. I want to tell him I'm so damned scared of reaching out. I wish my other cousin didn't have to 'go out' that way. I hate the careless people who took him, and the chance to know him as a person and not a voice on the phone, away from us.

... Well, what do you know. Easier than I thought.