If you’re reading this, I first want to thank you for sticking with me this long. I started this blog exactly six years ago in the same year and only a few short months before the world was going to shutdown due to a global pandemic. Since then, I’ve accomplished so much that I wanted as a writer, including self-publishing my own book— during a week-long power outage in my area. I can’t say that second part was in my plans when I envisioned publishing my debut book, but if I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that nothing ever goes strictly as planned.

You may have noticed my long absence on this site, and for that, I have no excuses. Since writing and releasing my book, I’ve been stuck in a long period of intense writer’s block. The same place I was in five months ago, during my last blog post celebrating one year of my book—the last time that I’ve written anything.

I’ve discussed it here before but I’ll say it again that it’s a tough feeling—to feel like I’m no longer a writer, because the words to say have simply not come to me in so long. But what I’ve realized is that I will always be a writer, and writing will always be a part of who I am, even during periods when I am not creating. This is certainly not the last you’ve heard from me, and I look forward to a long future doing what I love to the most.

So where have I been? I’ve been spending time with those I love most— my family and friends. I’ve been making an effort to take more pictures, to encapsulate all moments—to the smallest, seemingly trivial days to the more significant times this year, such as meeting a new family member!

In this new year, when I’m not creating, I wish to read more works from those who inspire me— a goal I’ve always set, but admittedly, have yet to fulfill completely. This shall be made possible now that I’ve acquired the book The Poetry of Emily Dickinson, someone I admire deeply. She’s a young woman who never realized her full potential, whose goal was never to write to publish and be seen, but simply for herself because she genuinely loved the art itself. She’s proof that despite what “success” may mean in the aspect of one’s career, notoriety might not even come until our days have long passed on this Earth. Like Dickinson, I too write for nobody but myself, to satiate this itch, this calling from within my soul. Despite this, in the new year I will work on improving my self-promotion, so one day the world knows about my words, and projects such as my book, that I put my soul into.

So looking ahead to this new year of 2026, and moving forward, I think the question isn’t about where I’ve been, but where I’m going.

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Happy New Year!